


Hold Me Close and Believe

by Meh_forget_it



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meh_forget_it/pseuds/Meh_forget_it
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has an imaginary friend from a young age, in fact, it's his only friend. He is withdrawn and shy around anyone that isn't his dad or Dean. When he's fourteen, John comes to the conclusion Sam is ill in a way that John can't fix and has to send him to an institute for 'disturbed youth'. However, Dean isn’t entirely convinced that Lo is as imaginary as everyone assumes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

 _John_

He didn't feel worried at first. Sammy had come to him after he'd been playing in Bobby's scrap yard for a couple of hours, and had cheerfully told him about his new friend Lo. Sure, the hunter and father in him had combined and been worried about who 'Lo' was, but as soon as Sammy had told him that Lo was standing right next to him ("silly!"), he had relaxed and realised that Lo was an imaginary friend. Which all kids had at Sammy's age.

He was four, didn't really have any other kids his age around, besides Dean, who was more interested in making and cleaning guns than playing imaginary armies, so it was normal for Sammy to have made his own friend up. John certainly wasn't going to begrudge his youngest that.

He'd put it to the back of his mind, smiling fondly when Sammy excitedly whispered to his invisible friend in the back of the Impala, he'd send Dean warning looks whenever his eldest son look like he was going to pick on Sammy and he'd chuckle at whenever the poor 'Lo' was given the blame for anything that happened around Sammy.

However, he felt a stirring of unease when Sammy was nine and he actually listened to some of Sammy's ramblings. He knew things that children his age shouldn't and couldn't know. He had never had the conversation with Sammy about what it was he truly did, because Sammy had never asked. Now he knew why Sammy had never asked.

"No, _you_ should tell dad about the ghost. I can't. I'm not s'posed to know, 'member?" Sam hissed to the invisible friend at his side, then he must have sensed John looking at him, because John was then pinned by a pair of wide, hazel eyes.

"Sammy? Something you need to tell me?" John asked, making sure that his voice gave none of his suspicion or anxiety away.

"Lo says that the ghost in't buried in the cemetery. Says you need to look in the rose garden behind the house," Sammy told him earnestly, nibbling at his bottom lip as he looked at John nervously.

"Hmm, and did he tell you how he knew that?" John asked, narrowing his eyes when Sam fidgeted and avoided meeting John's eyes.

"He asked her husband." John left it at that, put the information to the back of his mind, then decided to take Dean with him. It was a simple salt and burn, what could go wrong with that. Three hours later and a somewhat bruised son, John found out that Sammy's information was right. Sammy _knew_ things. It was normal, but maybe Sammy had come across the information somewhere.

It wasn't the last time it happened though, and each time Sammy's information was right and every time, John's worry and suspicion grew a little about his son. He never once considered there was anything wrong with the imaginary friend however. It was normal, if not a little concerning when John would be told by Sam's teachers that Sam made no effort to make friends and would stay in the library or the classroom, reading quietly. They praised his intelligence though, going so far as to suggest that he should maybe be bumped up a grade. John had said he would think about it at the time, but then he had found out about a new hunt and they had left the town, and the state, and Sam had gone to a new school.

As Sam and Dean grew older, John noticed other things, they weren't as close as they had been as young children. John put it down to Dean going through the teenager stage, where he was more interested in girls and being cool, than he was in hanging around with his baby brother. But Sam was mature. Far more mature than other eleven year olds and almost surpassing Dean in maturity. Dean was still protective of Sam, but Sam never seemed to need it. Not that John wanted either of his son's to have trouble at school, but he had been worried Sam would be one of those children that was bullied wherever they went, because he was so small, quiet and studious. However, that wasn't true. Sam had no friends, true, but he had no bullies and was never bothered either.

When Sammy ("it’s Sam") turned twelve, John felt the niggle of worry grow when he noticed that Sam still had an imaginary friend. Dean had pointed out that surely it wasn't normal for a twelve-year-old kid to have only one friend, and that friend was someone he'd created in his head. John saw what Dean was trying to say, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it, and he felt that there was possibly more things to worry about concerning Sam. He became more spaced out and distant from everyone, including John and Dean. He seemed to sit and watch things that no one else could see, and his eyes would glaze over at random moments, like he wasn't really there. It scared John, if he was being completely honest with himself, but he didn't know what to do.

Then came the time for Sam to start High School. John knew, just from looking at Dean's expression, that things were going to be difficult for them all. Sam in particular. Things had not changed at all since Dean had pulled him aside to mention Sam's peculiarities, if anything, they had gotten worse.

In the two years since John had noticed that Sam lost himself in his mind, it became more and more obvious, and he knew more and more information that really most people would have never even heard of. John would admit that it was useful given his job, but he needed to know where Sam was getting it all. He didn't understand how he knew it, but he had noticed that Sam preferred to almost hide behind his books than actually interact with anyone.

It was with great trepidation, therefore, when he was summoned into the principal's office of the High School Sam and Dean were at, to 'discuss' his son. He had an idea that that son was Sam. But it was normally a toss up between either one if he was honest. He never had liked November.

It was after a long discussion with both the teacher and the child behavioural psychologist, and then another long discussion with Dean and several days of sleepless nights worrying over it, that John finally agreed.

He saw some irony that Sam was taken to the Augusta Home for Mentally Disturbed Youth on the second of November. Fourteen years exactly since Mary was murdered.

John was never certain which would haunt him more, the look in Mary's eyes when she died, or the resigned look in Sam's when John signed him over in to Doctor Chaudhery’s care and left him in the hospital.

* * *

 _Dean_

Dean loved Sammy. He was his baby brother and he'd carried him out of the burning nursery the night their mother had been killed. He'd taken his dad's urgings to protect Sammy very seriously and had never really stopped. But he would willingly admit that sometimes he was scared for Sam. Not scared _of_ him – even if Sam was a little creepy at times – but definitely for him.

Dean watched people, he was seen as being inattentive at school, not paying attention to his teachers or his studies, and not particularly caring either way. However, that wasn't entirely true. He followed the lessons, knew what was going on and passed by without really having to study too much. And he definitely paid attention.

Which was why he was scared for his baby brother. He knew people didn't accept those that they viewed as weird or different. And Sammy was most definitely different.

Dean had done a lot of shitty stuff in his life, but he'd accepted it all and tried to not really regret anything. He'd never forgive himself, however, for bringing his father's attention to Sam's differences. In his defence, he'd been worried for Sam, no twelve year old should still only have an imaginary friend as company. Dean knew Sam was withdrawn, a recluse really. He preferred to read and, one thing he had in common with his big brother, he liked to watch people. However, Dean just knew Sam should have grown out of the imaginary friend stage years before, and so he'd thought to bring it to their dad's attention just to see what the man thought.

Two years later, he regretted that decision. Almost as much as he regretted standing back and allowing his father to send Sam away to get help. Deep down, he'd known it was a bad idea. There was something different about Sam and Dean felt that their dad should have realised not all people were the same. Hell they hunted things that people thought only existed in stories and nightmares. So no, Dean didn't think Sam's problems were completely mental.

Dean had the vague idea that Sam saw things that other people didn't. He heard things that no one else could hear. Sure, the imaginary friend thing was worrying, but Dean felt that that might have been Sam's coping mechanism. He clearly hadn't felt he could talk to Dean.

Which was another regret Dean had. He'd _vowed_ to protect Sammy. And ultimately, he'd failed. How was Sam to know he could always count on Dean to help him, when Dean had never made a concerted effort to have a close relationship with his brother? If anything, Dean had pushed Sam further away.

The major regret Dean carried with him, however, was not objecting when his father took them out of state. Away from Sam and seemingly forgot about his troublesome youngest son. Dean should never have allowed them to leave Sam behind.

He shouldn't have allowed them to take Sam away in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

 _September 27th, 1987_

Sammy Winchester sat on the porch of his Uncle Bobby’s house, sulking. He was bored and had no one to play with because his big brother, Dean was doing something important with their daddy but Sammy had been told he was too young. Which he didn’t agree with. He was four and a quarter years old! He was almost all growed up!

Still, that didn’t change things and Sam was still on his own and bored. Well, Uncle Bobby was just inside the house looking through some dusty books, but Sammy didn’t want to read. Not that he didn’t enjoy it when he read with his Uncle Bobby at times. Even if some of the books did make him sneeze. However, it was sunny and Sammy really want to play outside.

Just not alone.

"Wanna play?" Sammy’s head shot up and he gaped at the boy standing in front of him. He looked to be around his own age, maybe a bit older and was a little taller than Sammy. More importantly, he was smiling widely at him, strawberry blond fringe doing nothing to obscure the mischievous copper coloured eyes. Sammy immediately knew this strange boy would be his new best friend.

Who needed boring big brothers anyway?

"I’m Sammy! Wanna play catch?" Sammy asked eagerly, jumping down the steps one at a time until he was standing in front of the other boy.

"M’Lo! Your it!" Sammy giggled when Lo tapped his shoulder and then ran off, looking over his shoulder with a wide smile. Giggling even more, Sammy ran off to catch up with Lo, no longer feeling bored at all.

* * *

"Sammy!" Sammy looked up from where he was hiding behind one of the many cars in Uncle Bobby’s scrap yard and looked over to see Uncle Bobby standing on the porch, clearly looking for him. "Sam Winchester, where are you, you little idjit?!"

"Uncle Bobby! Daddy said not to say that word round me!" Sammy called out, before realising his mistake and slapping his hand over his mouth. Too late however, as his exclamation had given his hiding spot away to not only Uncle Bobby, but Lo as well.

"Found you!! Your turn-" Lo stopped what he was saying and turned to looked at the approaching figure of Uncle Bobby. "-Oh, playtime’s over then, huh?"

"Sammy, come on, Kid, dinners ready. What you doing over here anyway? I told you it was too dangerous to play around these things," Bobby scolded. Sammy looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes and shook his head.

"Was playin’! Lo said it was safe and that we could play here! Honest, Uncle Bobby! He wouldn’t lie!" Sammy told the older man earnestly, whilst Lo nodded his head furiously. Bobby looked at him, a small frown on his face before a look of realisation cross over it.

"Lo told you this, did he? Well I’m the one in charge and I say don’t do it, okay? You gotta play near the house where I can see you, son, you know that," Bobby told him, face softening when Sammy nodded his head, tears welling in his eyes.

"You angry wiv me?" Sammy asked, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. Lo moved nearer to him and wrapped a hand around Sammy’s wrist in comfort. Bobby sighed and crouched down to face Sammy, placing a hand on Sammy’s shoulder.

"You know I’m not angry, Sammy. Come on, let’s go in and get some dinner. Your daddy and Dean will be back in a bit as well. Let’s go get you cleaned up and we don’t have to tell your daddy about you playing out here, okay?" Bobby asked him. Sniffing and scrubbing at his eyes, Sammy nodded his head and then glanced at Lo, before looking back at Bobby.

"Can Lo come to dinner, Uncle Bobby?" Sammy asked, moving to take a step closer to Lo as he used his big doe eyes to make his Uncle Bobby cave.

"Your friend still here is he? He hiding as well?" Bobby asked him, smiling at him and giving a little groan when he straightened up and his joints popped.

"You can’t see 'im, silly! He’s invisdable! He told me so! Can he come, can he?" Sammy asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet and smiling. His tears from moments before long forgotten with the excitement of possibly spending more time with Lo.

"Sure, he can come," Bobby relented, grinning when Sammy cheered and jumped around. Lo giggled and hopped on the balls of his feet in excitement with Sammy.

"Come on, Lo! Race ya to the house! Wait ’til you meet Dean. He’s my brother. He’s kinda mean," Sammy babbled, running back to the house with Lo following close behind him. Pausing at the steps to the porch, Sammy looked over in time to see Bobby frowning and looking at where Sammy had been hiding before turning and walking back to the house, frown soon leaving his face in place of a smile.

* * *

 _April 13th, 1991_

Sammy huffed in frustration when Dean ignored his pleas to watch Thundercats and carried on watching He Man. Which was boring. Sammy hated He Man. Lo didn’t like it either. So Sammy and Lo were sitting on their bed, whilst Dean was ignoring him and watching the TV on the couch on the other side of the room.

Since turning twelve, Dean had become less fun and even more mean than normal. Sammy hated it when their dad left them at the motel and left to go on business for a few days. Leaving Dean in charge made Dean act like the dictator men Sammy read about with Lo in the books they took from the library. Admittedly, they only read them so that they could discuss the tricks and the pranks they would pull on the men if they had had the chance. Normally it resulted in the two pulling said pranks on Dean, and then Sammy getting the stuffing beaten out of him by Dean in retaliation.

It wasn’t fair. And made Sam sulk for the rest of the night.

Right now though, Sammy was pouting and bored, and most all, Sammy was curious. Glancing over at Dean, Sammy grinned when he realised Dean wasn’t paying him any attention, then he turned to face Lo. Lo smiled widely back at him and moved to sit indian style, Sammy moving to mirror him.

"What’s Daddy doing, Lo? Do ya know?" Sammy whispered, moving eve closer to Lo so that their heads were bent together, almost touching.

"He’s huntin’!" Lo whispered back. Sammy reared back and looked at Lo in confusion, shaking his head in denial.

"Nuh uh! Daddy don’t hunt, Lo. He’da told us that! 'Sides, huntin' animals is mean! Daddy wouldn' do that! Would he?" Sammy asked, looking over at Dean once more and then back to Lo, nibbling on his lip.

"He don’t hunt animals, Sammy," Lo whispered to him, and Sammy looked at him with wide eyes, wondering just what his daddy was hunting then.

"What is he huntin’ then, Lo? Is it…" Sammy looked around cautiously and then looked back to Lo, "is it monsters?"

Lo looked at him for a few seconds before nodding his head seriously. Sammy gaped at him and frowned.

"But… our teachers always said they weren’t real!" Sammy whispered, shuffling even closer to Lo in the bizarre attempt for safety from the possible threat of monsters. Which now apparently did exist.

"They don’t know the truth!" Lo whispered to him, and Sammy nibbled on his lip anxiously. "But you don’t hafta worry, Sammy. Your daddy’s like a superhero! He gets the monsters and keeps you safe. And you’ve got me ’n’ Dean too! You’re safe wiv us, Sammy!" Lo whispered to him, pulling Sammy into his side and wrapping his arms around him.

"Promise?"

"Promise, Sammy! And we can help!" Lo whispered excitedly. Sammy pulled back a little and looked at Lo curiously.

"How?"

"We can look for all the monsters ever in books! And then we can help you daddy by lettin’ him know what we know!" Lo told him, and Sammy couldn’t help but begin to feel his friends excitement.

"Yeah! We can do that and then Dean and daddy will have no choice but to see us as growed ups! He’ll hafta listen to us then, won’t he!" Sammy exclaimed, wriggling in excitement. "We can go now. He Man’s borin anyway!"

"We gotta ask Dean, though. He’s mean," Lo pointed out, scowling over at an oblivious Dean. Sammy nodded his head in agreement, but shuffled to jump off the bed anyway and ran over to Dean.

Dean looked up at him with a bored expression whilst Sammy bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling widely.

"S’up, Midget?"

"Lo sez you’re gonna regret pickin on me coz I’m small one day! He sez I’m gonna be taller than you soon and then I’ll kick your butt, coz I can!" Sammy told him with a nod, pouting when Dean just stared at him with a smirk.

"Yeah, you wish. What do you want, Sammy?" Dean asked him again, and Sammy smiled widely once more.

"Can me an’ Lo go to the library! We wanna take some books out!"

"You know Dad told us not to leave the motel room, Sammy. We can’t. Sorry," Dean told him, actually sounding sorry as well. Sammy figured Dean wanted to go out as well, probably to meet the girl he and Lo saw him kissing the other day.

"But we wanna help daddy fight the monsters! Lo said we can look in books and find out stuff to help daddy!" Sammy pleaded. Dean looked up at him in shock, frowning and tugging on Sammy’s arm to pull him closer.

"Sammy, where’d you find out about that? Have you been looking through Dad’s stuff again? You know he doesn’t like that!"

"No! I weren’t! Honest, Dean! Lo told me! He told me Daddy was huntin’ things but told me it wasn’t animals coz animals shouldn’t be hunted coz they’re cute and Daddy wouldn’t do that anyway. Lo said!" Sammy added with a nod of his head, breathing in deeply to catch his breath. Dean just looked at him, frowning and not looking entirely convinced. Which wasn’t entirely unusual. Dean and their dad never really believed most of the stuff Sammy told them. Including the time Sammy tried to tell them about the faerie that was picking on him. Lo got rid of her though. She was mean.

"Sammy, I won’t tell Dad that you looked through his stuff if you promise me you won’t do it again! You can’t let him know either. No talking to him about monsters. Promise me, Sammy!" Dean demanded, and Sammy nibbled on his lip, looking over his shoulder at Lo, before turning back to Dean and nodding.

"Promise, Dean," Sammy whispered. Dean smiled at him and reached over to ruffle Sammy’s floppy hair, tugging him down to sit on the couch next to him.

"That’s good, Sammy. Come on, you can watch Thundercats, if you want," Dean told him, handing him the remote control. Sammy smiled widely at him and shuffled to get comfy on the sofa, leaving just enough room on the end for Lo to sit next to him. He noticed Dean roll his eyes when Sammy patted the sofa for Lo, but ignored it. He knew Lo wasn’t imaginary. If his daddy and Dean wanted to believe that, that was fine.

* * *

 _June 28th, 1993_

Sam flinched and turned his head to look away from the being that had just walked past them in the hallways. He knew what it meant and he knew that he wouldn’t be taking refuge in the library later that day during lunch. Looking to the side at Lo, he smiled when the older boy placed a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder and squeezed gently.

"You know you can’t stop it. It’s gotta happen, Sam," Lo whispered to him, moving his hand to tug on Sam’s, gently nudging him towards their next class. Sam moved easily, pressing closer to Lo and ignoring the strange looks his classmates were sending him. It wasn’t really something he wasn’t used to. Kids his age found him odd and knew to leave him alone.

Sam was grateful for that. His teachers all worried whilst he was in their school, commenting that he needed friends and should try to go out there and speak to people instead of hiding with his books. But Sam didn’t want to make friends with his peers.

He didn’t feel it would be fair to them. He wasn’t normal and they would never really be able to understand him.

Besides, he had Lo. He didn’t need anyone else. Lo would keep him safe and sane. Lo would never let him down. He’d certainly never stab him in the back, like he saw so many of his peers do to their so-called friends.

It also didn’t help that kids his age avoided him like he had the plague. Not that he blamed them. Odd things happened around him. He was surprised neither his dad nor Dean hadn’t actually questioned him about it yet.

"Lo, will it hurt her?" Sam whispered softly, twisting the ties on his hoodie around his fingers, nibbling on his lip and looking over at Lo anxiously. He turned from Lo to briefly look back in the direction of the library and where the man had gone.

"No, it won’t hurt her, Sammy. Come on, Miss MacArthur mentioned something about a pop quiz today, didn’t she? Gotta go show her that you actually do know what she’s talking about by getting a hundred percent again," Lo told him, smiling brightly. Sam grinned back at him, shoving his unease down and forcing himself to ignore his remorse for the librarian that was soon going to die in some way.

"You gonna help me?"

"I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I!"

"Good coz you really kinda suck at math, Lo," Sam told him with a grin, then walked into the classroom and took his seat. He knew he couldn’t do anything to help anyone once he’d spotted a reaper.

It wasn’t like he was going to be staying in town for much longer anyway. Their dad had called that morning to tell them that he was on his way back. Sam no longer minded the constant moving. Not making a connection with anyone made it harder to get attached. Not getting attached meant he wouldn’t feel too guilty for not doing anything about the reapers.

He had Lo. He didn’t need anyone else.

* * *

Sam glanced up from his homework when Dean sat down opposite him at the table. Lo looked at Dean in confusion then back to Sam, who just shrugged.

"Dean?"

"Sammy… you alright?" Dean asked him, and Sam frowned, watching Dean fidget with unease. Clearly he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the conversation. The fact that he was staying there to have it showed Sam that Dean obviously thought it was important. He had no idea what Dean wanted to talk about, however.

"Um… yeah. I’m fine, Dean. Why’d you ask?" Sam asked him, tapping his pencil on the table and swinging his legs a little, looking at Dean curiously.

"You just… last night. You didn’t sleep well. I.. I wondered if you wanted to talk about it," Dean offered, rubbing the back of his neck as a clear sign of his discomfort.

"Last night?" Sam frowned as he tried to think what had happened last night, but drew a blank. Glancing over a Lo for a clue, Lo nibbled his lip and sighed.

"You had a nightmare. It was pretty bad until I could stop it. Sorry," Lo told him softly, looking down at his hands on the table in remorse.

"S’okay," Sam whispered, then looked up at Dean who was watching him in concern. It was starting to get rarer that Dean paid him much mind now that he was going to be starting high school in a few months. Sammy was just his bratty kid brother. Though it didn’t stop him from protecting Sam like an angry mother bear should Sam ever need it.

Not that Sam ever did. He had Lo to take care of any possible bullies.

"I’m fine, Dean. Honest. It was nothing. Just a stupid nightmare. You know how it is. Not like Dad tells us the monster under the bed isn’t real," Sam added with a wry grin. Dean chuckled weakly and shook his head.

"True. You… you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I’m here for you if you need me, Sammy," Dean told him, getting up from the table and ruffling Sam’s hair.

"I know, Dean. Thanks," Sam said, smiling up at his older brother.

"Good. Now, better get that homework finished, Nerd," Dean told him, chuckling when Sam lobbed his rubbed at him, frowning.

"Maybe you should take him up on the offer, Sammy. I mean, you can’t just talk to me all the time, you know. Dean’ll be able to to give you a different view on things. You know he’ll believe you," Lo told him quietly. Sam just shrugged and chewed on the end of his pencil, steadfastly staring at his homework.

"Perhaps."

"Okay, just consider it though, yeah? Someone other than your invisible friend needs to know about what you can see."

"Not gonna happen, Lo. If you’re not gonna help with my homework, go back to reading or something," Sam muttered from around his pencil, shifting to write in the answer. Glancing to the side out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Lo looking at him in concern. "Don’t pull the 'I’m older, bigger and wiser' card, either. Don’t work for Dean, won’t work for you,"

"Fine. The answer to eleven is 1883," Lo told him with a resigned sigh. Sam looked down at the question and smiled widely.

"Thanks, Lo," Sam whispered softly, writing in the answer, legs going back to swinging once more. His smile widened when Lo edged closer to him and stopped one of his legs by hooking his foot around Sam’s ankle and trapping it between his own legs. Sam saw that as being forgiven for snapping at Lo.

Lo wouldn’t let him down. Lo was the only friend he ever needed.

* * *

 _September 25th, 1997_

Sam turned on his side to look at Lo lying next to him. They were both currently lying on a small grassy hill that over looked the sports field of the current high school Sam was going to, making the most of the autumn sun.

Sam hated high school. Sure he enjoyed the more challenging subjects he was taking, but he disliked the teachers and the students. He knew that the teachers were planning something and had been having meetings with his father. He just had no idea what it was about.

"Lo? You sure you have to go?" Sam asked quietly, not wanting to fully break the peaceful atmosphere by speaking out loud. Whispering was meeting it halfway, because he also really needed to talk to Lo.

"You know I have to, Sammy. I gotta go check on some things. You’re going to be fine though. I’ve blocked you from most things I could think about and demons wouldn’t go anywhere near you anyway."

"Promise?" Sam asked, voice barely audible showing his unease. He reached out and hooked his pinky finger around Lo’s.

"I promise, Sammy," Lo told him gently, moving his hand and linking his fingers with Sam’s, squeezing in reassurance.

"And you’re coming back, right? You won’t be gone for too long?"

"You’ll barely miss me! I’m only gonna be gone for two weeks. Then I’ll be right back by your side," Lo told him with a wide smile. Sam smiled weakly back and rolled back to look up at the sky.

"I have this feeling that something’s going to go wrong. Something bad is going to happen," Sam whispered, and Lo squeezed his hand tightly.

"It’s gonna be fine, Sammy."

"The faerie-folk say otherwise. She warned me. Told me to not trust him. I don’t know what she meant though. Or who. Who am I not supposed to trust, Lo?" Sam asked, looking at Lo and noticing the troubled look on his friends face.

"Did she say she’d help you whilst I was away? You know they like you, you’ve never treated them wrong. Don’t upset them and they’ll help you, Sammy," Lo told him, untangling their fingers and bringing his hand up to brush it over Sam’s cheek. He pushed the hair behind Sam’s ear and smiled at him warmly. "Trust them, they’ll guide you right, Sammy."

"Okay. Don’t be long, Lo. Don’t leave me alone," Sam whispered, sitting up when the bell rang for the end of lunch.

"I won’t. Sammy, stay out of the shadows, remember?" Lo warned him, standing up and holding out a hand for Sam to take, which he did without pause. Allowing Lo to pull him up, Sam smiled up at the man.

"Promise, Lo. Come back soon, yeah?" Sam asked. Lo nodded at him and then looked at him calmly for a second before he dipped his head a little and pressed his lips to Sam’s in a chaste kiss.

"You’re mine, Sammy. I won’t leave you, promise," Lo whispered to him once he’d pulled back a little. Sam just looked at him with wide eyes, before he brought a hand up and touched his lips. A wide smile broke out second later and he threw his arms over Lo’s shoulders.

"Yours," Sam whispered in Lo’s ear, then he quickly pulled back and pressed a shy kiss to Lo’s cheek and ran off towards the school. He didn’t look back to see what Lo’s reaction had been. He didn’t dare. If he’d looked back, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from begging Lo to take him with him.

Taking a deep breath, Sam walked into the school and headed to his class, well aware that he was once more late for his first class of the afternoon. He couldn’t actually recall a day when he was on time. He didn’t really care either.

"Late again, Mr Winchester? Take your seat, we’re reading chapter three," The teacher told him. Sam silently nodded his head and walked over to his desk by the window. He had no idea what book it was they were supposed to be reading from and he doubted he even had it. It was safe to say that over the years, Sam’s education had slowly taken a back seat to Sam trying to stay sane with the help of Lo and Taney.

He did wonder what his family thought about the fact Sam’s only friends seemed to be imaginary. His father worried, he knew that much, but Sam noticed that Dean didn’t seem as worried as he did suspicious. Sam was aware that Dean thought Lo was invisible, not imaginary. It made Sam happy to know that. To know that his brother didn’t think he was completely insane.

* * *

 _November 2nd, 1997_

Sam glanced up from the book he was reading in the back of the library when he felt someone watching him. Looking around, he flinched visibly when a man stepped out of the shadows and moved to sit on the table Sam was sitting at.

"Samuel Winchester, chosen consort of Loki?" Sam’s eyes widened at the name of his friend and he stared at the man cautiously.

"Who are you?"

"My name is of no concern to you. I was just wondering where your partner currently is. Strange that he’s left you alone," the man told him, and Sam felt unease beginning to rise in his chest. He had a feeling this was the man Taney was talking about. Seeing something shine out the corner of his eye, Sam closed his book with a snap and shoved it in his bag.

"Sorry, I’ve got to go. Can’t be late after all. Education’s important," Sam murmured, looking down at his feet as he skirted around the table the man was sitting on. When he was in site of the door, Sam quickened his pace and rushed out of the library as quickly as possible.

Seconds later, he felt the blood drain from his face as he passed a reaper heading towards the direction of the library. Maybe he should start to avoid libraries now. He didn’t seem to be conducive to the long life of librarians.

It was a long day after that brief encounter, made longer when the body of the a teacher had been found in the library. From the whispers he heard from the students, the teacher appeared to have suffered from a heart attack. Sam couldn’t help but wonder how the man had actually died however, nor could he ignore the rising feeling of unease.

He wanted Lo back now.

Swallowing heavily, Sam followed Dean into their current motel room and then froze when he saw another man sitting at the table talking to their father. Reaching up, Sam nervously gripped the back of Dean’s t-shirt, feeling a little better when Dean stayed in front of him.

"Dad? What’s going on?" Dean asked, sounding just as confused as Sam felt, which also made Sam feel better. Knowing that Dean wasn’t included in whatever his father was up to was definitely a soothing thought.

"Boys, come in. Close the door. This man is here to speak to Sammy," John explained to them, and Sam cautiously looked around Dean to see a shorter, kind looking asian man smiling at them cheerfully. If anything, that made Sam’s hackles rise even more.

"Dad?" Sam asked cautiously, not stepping away from or letting go of Dean, but following his brother when he stepped closer to the table.

Maybe he’d been wrong about who Taney had meant after all.

"Sammy, this man is here to talk to you about some areas of concern that have been brought up by your teachers. Wanna take a seat for this?" John asked him, Sam shook his head and bit his lip, clutching at Dean’s t-shirt even tighter.

"Sammy," Dean whispered gently, reaching awkward behind him to untangle Sam’s finger from his shirt and then nudging Sam into the chair opposite the man. Dean then took the only seat left next to Sam, dragging it close enough so that Sam could lean on his brother for comfort.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Sam asked quietly, biting harshly at his lip, not stopping even though he could taste blood.

"Sam, I’m Doctor Chaudhery, I’m a child psychiatrist. I was called to talk to you by your father and your teachers," the man told him gently. Sam just stared at him silently and pressed even more into Dean’s side. "Sam, I’m here to talk to you about a friend of yours. I believe your father told me you called him Lo?"

Sam’s breath caught in his throat and he shot Dean a panicked look, feeling betrayed when Dean didn’t meet his stare.

"Dad?" Sam choked out, looking to his father, who was staring at his hands stoically.

"Sam, just tell the doctor about Lo," John told him gruffly. Sam felt a shiver run down his spine when he realised he wouldn’t be getting any help from Dean or his father. Not that he really expected any from his father. John actually did think Lo was imaginary. Sam sort of understood that his father was just concerned about him. Didn’t make it any easier to accept.

"What did you want to know?" Sam asked almost inaudibly. He looked down at his hands resting on the table and began to tangle his fingers together. He wanted Lo back. Or Taney to be with him even, but he couldn’t. He’d promised he’d only call out if he truly needed their help. He didn’t think this qualified.

"Can you tell me about him? What he’s like?" Chaudhery asked Sam in the same calm tone of voice that was beginning to set Sam on edge. Sam just shrugged however, refusing to look up from his hands.

"Sam." The warning tone in his father’s voice wasn’t something Sam could ignore, so he sighed and looked up through his fringe at Chaudhery.

"He’s my best friend. Listens to me, looks out for me. What more do you need to know?" Sam asked with a small shrug. He didn’t want to have this conversation. It wasn’t a fun conversation and Sam was beginning to feel more and more cornered.

"Does he tell you to do things, Sam? Perhaps things you know you shouldn’t do?" Chaudhery asked him, looking up at Sam from the notes he’d been writing. Sam just shook his head with a frown. What exactly did they think Lo was? Some evil devil sitting on his shoulder, telling him to smother his dad in his sleep. Lo wouldn’t do that. He’d just smother the man himself if he felt the need.

"No. Why would he do that? He can just do it himself. He’s not imaginary you know. It’s not my fault he doesn’t trust anyone enough to let them see him. Not like everyone has been exactly welcoming and friendly, have they?" Sam muttered, fidgeting a little in his seat as he tried to ignore the temptation to grab the candy bar in his bag that he knew would be there. Somehow, even though Lo wasn’t actually around, Sam still got his daily supply of sugar. Honestly, Sam had no idea what that was actually about. Lo just seemed to feel inducing people he loved into sugar comas was the way to go. Sam wasn’t exactly going to complain about it.

"So he tells you that he’s real?" Chaudhery asked and even Dean was insulted in Sam’s place if Sam judged by the small noise of indignation his brother made.

"He doesn’t need to. Look, you don’t believe me and I have no idea what I can say or do to make you believe me. So why don’t we just call it quits and you leave?" Sam asked, nibbling on his lip as he stared at the psychiatrist, really hoping the man took him up on that.

"I’m afraid I can’t, Sam. Your father and teachers were correct in their concern, and I think we possibly need to observe you for a while longer."

"Observe me?" Sam asked, startled. He looked from Chaudhery to his father, then to Dean, who refused to meet his stare. "Dean? Dean, you believe me, right? I know you do! You know Lo’s not all in my mind! Dean, please! Tell them!"

"Sam, calm down. You’re upset and you’re just upsetting your brother. We’re doing this for your own good," John told him sharply. Sam slumped in his chair and just stared at his father in betrayal. He didn’t understand how they could do this to him.

"What’s going to happen to me?" Sam whispered finally, once he’d stopped himself from bursting into tears, or hyperventilating.

"Sammy, you’ve got to understand, we’re doing this for your own good! You’re not well, son! Surely you can see that, right? This isn’t healthy! Please, Sammy, please tell me you understand why we have to to this," John pleaded. Sam looked at his dad and saw the pain on his face. Heaving a shuddering sigh, Sam lowered his eyes back to the table and nodded his head.

He didn’t though. He didn’t understand what they were doing to him or why, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny his dad when the man begged him. Besides, perhaps Lo would find him and get him out.

"Sam, your dad signed you over to our care. I’m going to take you to some place safe, and we’re going to help you get better again, okay?" Chaudhery asked. Sam nodded his head, not having anything else to say. Dean however, was the one to speak up this time.

"Dad? What-what does he mean? We’re… you’re gonna… Dad?" Dean exclaimed, standing up from his chair and placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder comfortingly.

"Dean, you know we have to do this. We don’t have a choice. We have no way of truly helping your brother," John told Dean with forced calm, and Sam felt Dean tighten his grip on Sam’s shoulder.

"Dean… don’t. It’s… it’s okay," Sam said. It wasn’t. It was so far from okay that Sam didn’t have a word for what it actually was, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Dean punishing himself for letting Sam get taken away.

"Sammy…"

"I’m gonna be fine, Dean. Honest! They’re just… they’re just gonna look after me, right?" Sam asked, looking to Chaudhery, tears starting to sting his eyes. Chaudhery looked at him softly and nodded.

"Of course, Sam. We all just want what’s best for you."

"See, Dean! I’m gonna be fine! And… and you can visit me, right?" Sam asked, looking over to Chaudhery and then his father for confirmation.

"Yeah, Sammy. We can visit you whenever we like," John said. Sam nodded and smiled weakly before he turned back to Dean. Dean just looked at him with a distressed look on his face, but then he nodded and looked away.

"Okay, Sammy. Just… you know you can call me any time right? Any time you think it’s too much, just call me and I’ll come for you!"

"I will, Dean," Sam told him softly, though he knew it would never happen. He was young, but he wasn’t naive. He knew that they wouldn’t let him out just because he wanted them to. Sam was going to be in there until they deemed him sane enough.

Or Lo got him out.

Sam silently followed Dr Chaudhery out to his car with his father and Dean following him, and made a small noise of surprise when he was spun around and pulled into a tight hug by his dad.

"Stay safe, Sammy. Don’t forget protections. Steal salt if you have to, you hear me?" John whispered in Sam’s ear. Sam nodded against his dad’s shoulder, breathing in the man’s scent and trying to save it to memory.

"I won’t," Sam whispered back, before he pulled away and quickly turned to hug Dean. He pulled back from Dean’s tight grasp when Chaudhery softly cleared his throat. Smiling weakly up at Dean, Sam look back at his father and then walked to Chaudhery and got in the car when the man opened the back door for him.

Only when he could no longer see the motel, did Sam finally let his tears fall. He couldn’t help but wonder if Lo would be able to find him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

 _November 3rd, 1997_

Sam shivered even though he wasn’t cold, and looked around, well what he supposed was his room now. He chuckled bitterly to himself as he realised that he had had to be committed for him to finally get his own bedroom. Sniffling a little and wiping the sleeve of his hoodie over his face, Sam gave a small sigh and then walked over to sit on his bed. He finally given in the night before and called for Lo. Either the man hadn’t heard him, couldn’t hear him… or he didn’t care. Sam wasn’t too sure what he wanted the answer to be. He shuffled to the corner of his bed and hugged his legs to his body. With a glance to the door, Sam sighed again and nuzzled his nose into the hoodie, breathing in the smell of Lo and letting it soothe his nerves a little.

Sam’s eyes were drawn to his door when it opened and a young looking nurse walked in, smiling at him brightly. Sam tightened his grip on his legs, making himself look as small as possibly. He watched her with wide, wary eyes, fingers twisting in his sleeves.

"Hello, Sam! I’m Nurse Amanda, I’m one of the nurses on this floor so we’ll be getting to know one another pretty well. How are you feeling today? Have you been over to the rec room yet? You might meet some people you like. Meet some friends!" Amanda told him, still with her ever present smile. Sam just stared at her silently, wondering why she was in there in the first place. "I was told by the nurse on shift last night that you refused to give up your sweater. You ready to take it off yet? We’ll give it back to you once we’ve washed it."

"No," Sam muttered, trying to make himself even smaller. He possibly hadn’t had the best reaction to them trying to take his hoodie from him the night before, but it was the only thing he had that reminded him that Lo _was_ real and not, like everyone was trying to tell him, imaginary.

"Okay, but one day you’re going to have to take it off, honey. Well then, you going to come with me to the rec room? The other kids on this floor really are nice, you’ll make good friends," Amanda told him, and Sam watched her warily as she moved to lean one the wall across from him. He noticed that she kept her body language open and caring, but she still didn’t turn her back on him. Apparently he possibly shouldn’t have bitten and attacked the guy that had tried to take the hoodie from him. He did tell them that he didn’t want to give it up, first though.

"No."

"Right, well tomorrow you’re not going to have much choice in the matter, I’m afraid. But seeing as today is your first full day here, we’ll let you get used to things and stay in this room," Amanda told him with a bright smile. "I’ll leave you to yourself for a little while then. Our records on you did state that you preferred to be alone. You have an appointment with Dr Chaudhery later on though. It’s after lunch, so you have a bit of time. Is there anything I can get for you? Within reason of course."

Sam eyed her cautiously, wondering what he could ask for that would be within reason. Apparently the nurse sensed his hesitation and just smiled at him encouragingly, "can I read?"

"Hmm, I’ll have to ask your Doctor, but I don’t see that it could be much a problem. You’re on one of the more open wings, so that gives you a few more privileges than the floors above," Amanda told him, and Sam didn’t think that sounded as good as she was making it sound given he was on the fourth floor of a six story building. He wondered just how much freedom the people on the floors below him got. Amanda then shifted and moved towards the door, turning back to smile at him brightly. "I’ll come back with your book shortly should I find out if you can have one. Do you have any preference?"

"No."

"No? Non-fiction? Fiction? No preferred type?" She asked him and Sam just shrugged and shook his head. Somehow he didn’t think they’d have the kind of books he really preferred to read. Nor did he think it would be a good idea to enquire about them. They already thought he was insane enough for the fourth floor, he didn’t want to be bumped up to the fifth. "Right, okay then. I’ll be back in a little bit then, okay?"

Sam nodded at her and then looked away to the barred window in his room. He wasn’t too sure Lo was ever going to find him. And he hadn’t seen Taney since the day after Lo had left. Sam was pretty sure he was alone in this now. He just had to make sure he stayed out of the shadows.

* * *

"So, Sam. I’d like to talk to you about Lo again today, I think. Is that okay?" Chaudhery asked him later that day. Sam just stared at him silently before he gave a small sigh and nodded his head. He had no idea what he could say anymore. Twisting his fingers around the sleeves of his hoodie, Sam huddled down on the seat and waited for the inane questioning to begin.

Really, it was pointless in Sam’s eyes. He would never say what Chaudhery wanted him to say and Chaudhery probably knew that as well. They would just be going round and round in circles.

"So, when did you first 'meet' your friend?" Chaudhery asked him and Sam could also envision the punctuation marks when he said 'meet'.

"I was four." Sam watched Chaudhery nod his head and make a note on the paper in front of him, before he looked up at Sam again and smiled, placing the clipboard on the coffee table between them.

"And Lo, was he about the same age as you? Or was he older maybe?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam shrugged a little and looked down at his fingers.

"Can I put my feet on the chair?" Sam asked instead of answering. Chaudhery just smiled at him and nodded. Sam gave a small smile of thanks back - he was polite after all, and really, Chaudhery hadn’t actually done anything wrong to him - and tucked his legs underneath him on the seat.

"Are you ready to answer my questions now?"

"Lo is… he’s a little older than me. He looked about the same age as me when we were four, but he kinda ages faster than we do. I dunno. I think it’s because he’s not human," Sam explained, not really bothering with hiding the truth. Wasn’t like the man opposite thought Lo was real. Why hide anything?

"He’s not human? I got the impression he was from conversations with your teachers and your father. What is he if not a human then, Sam?"

"A trickster. He’s the Norse god." Chaudhery reached over and picked up his clipboard, writing on it, before he paused and looked at Sam.

"Would you mind if I recorded our sessions? It would save me from having to write specific things down that I might find important. Let me give you my full attention," Chaudhery explained. Sam nibbled his lip, not too sure if he wanted these conversations on permanent record, but then, if the man would be writing notes down anyway…

"Okay."

"Thank you," Chaudhery said, once more placing the clipboard on the table only this time he reached into his pocket afterwards and pulled out a small recorder and placed it on the table also. "Now, you said Lo was… a trickster?"

"Yes. The trickster. The Norse Trickster God, Loki. Lo was the nickname he gave himself when he met me," Sam told him, smiling softly as he thought about that day and how much fun they’d had. They hadn’t gone back to Uncle Bobby’s quite as often after that day.

John had told them, whenever Dean or Sam had enquired, that Uncle Bobby was too busy to watch over them. But Sam knew the real reason behind it was because of himself. He’d overheard a hushed argument between the two men. Apparently Uncle Bobby had believed Sam that Lo was real right from the off.

"And when did he tell you his full title?" Chaudhery asked him in a soothing voice. Sam frowned a little, trying to think back to it and then grinned.

"About two years later. Dean had been mean to me, put salt in my milky tea instead of sugar. Lo told me we should get him back. That his job was to put people back in their place. So we did," Sam said, still smiling, chuckling as he recalled Dean’s reaction.

"So Lo has been Loki since you were about six then?" Chaudhery asked him, making Sam frown at the wording.

"No, Lo’s always been Loki. He _told_ me about it when I was six however. Different thing," Sam muttered petulantly. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sam settled back to just glower at the man in front of him.

"You haven’t spoken of Lo since you came here. Haven’t spoken _to_ him, either. Is he not with you right now, Sam?" Chaudhery asked, and Sam narrowed his eyes at the man. He couldn’t see where the man was heading with this. It wasn’t like they’d dosed him with anything other than sedatives so far, so he surely couldn’t think they’d done something right because Lo wasn’t around. Sam was fairly sure they hadn’t given him anything. He was possibly clinging on to the hope that they couldn’t drug him without actually telling him first.

He was possibly being naive about that, but he really didn’t want to think he was. He hoped he wasn’t.

"He’s not here," Sam said, narrowing his eyes at the man. Sam figured he had two choices at this point; let the man think Sam was no longer seeing Lo - which he wasn’t, but not because Lo didn’t exist - and possibly think that the drugs they might be pumping him with were working, or tell him about the others.

"Any why is that, do you think?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam just stared at the man, it certainly wasn’t because Lo didn’t exist. His thoughts were possibly getting a little repetitive, but really, Sam didn’t know what the other man wanted from him. They both knew he wouldn’t be let out if he suddenly did a u-turn and told them they were right all along and Lo didn’t exist. So why bother?

"He has other duties. You know, being a god and all. I’d imagine it’s a rather busy day job to have. He can’t always be with me," Sam said, trying to come across as nonchalant, but given that his voice wavered a little, he didn’t think he’d succeeded.

"But you want him to be?" Yep, hadn’t succeeded on the nonchalant front. Sam just shrugged. No way was he going to admit that out loud. If only for his own well being. "What is your relationship with Lo?"

Sam blinked in shock. That hadn’t been a question he’d expected. At least, not this early into his time in the Loony Bin.

"We’re friends."

"You never perhaps projected any feelings on to him that were not platonic?"

"If by projected, do you mean I had a crush on him or thought he had one on me?" Sam asked, feeling a little unbalanced by the whole conversation. He no longer knew what he should say, was supposed to say or really didn’t want to say for fear of coming across as completely insane. Which he was already doing a bang up job of in the first place and he really didn’t want to make issues even worse than they already were.

" _Were_ you attracted to him?" Chaudhery asked him, leaning forward a little on his seat. Sam just wondered why he was talking in the past tense. Did the man now think Sam no longer thought Lo existed? Or was dead, possibly.

"He is attractive," Sam admitted with a small shrug, tightening his arms around his waist and looking down, nibbling at his lip. It struck him as bizarre that he admitted he was possibly gay - for an invisible man admittedly - to a complete stranger whilst locked up in a mental hospital. He possibly did belong there after all.

"And he returned your feelings?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose it doesn’t. So back to Lo again. You say he’s not here at the moment. Will he be coming back later on today do you think? Do you think you could go in to the rec room instead? Make other friends?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam wanted to ask him if the man wanted to add 'that we can see' on the end of that, but bit his tongue against the temptation.

"He won’t be back for a while," Sam mumbled, closing his eyes so that he didn’t humiliate himself completely by breaking down in sobs at that admission.

"Do you perhaps think there is another reason for that?"

"Like I’ve accepted he no longer exists? You can’t accept something doesn’t exist when you know it does. That’s called denial. I may only be a child in your eyes, but I do know enough about the world to know that," Sam snapped, scowling at Chaudhery for making him finally give in to the urge to argue with him.

Clearly the man truly did think that Lo’s absence was now partly due to his help. Sam wasn’t going to let him continue with that belief. If this man was trying to shatter his beliefs, Sam was going to return the favour.

"But you’re no longer seeing him? When did he leave for this business of his?" Sam scowled at him but didn’t think there could be any harm in answering truthfully.

"Last week."

"And you haven’t seen him since then?"

"He’s not the only one, you know. Just because you can’t see things, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. It’s a naive and somewhat stupid belief to cling to, Doctor," Sam told him. He wanted to tell the man that continuing with that belief would just get himself killed, but he didn’t want Chaudhery to think he was threatening him in some way.

"So you see other things as well? Such as?" Chaudhery asked him, leaning forward a little to push the recorder even closer to Sam. Apparently the man really didn’t want to miss any of this.

"If you open your eyes and allow yourself to accept the existence of the supernatural, Doctor Chaudhery, then you wouldn’t need me to tell you," Sam mumbled, shifting on the chair to hug his legs to his chest. He was exhausted. He didn’t want to play games anymore and try to confuse the doctor. He just wanted to go back to his room.

No, he wanted Lo back.

"Are they with you now?"

"No. No they’re not. I’m alone here. I have no one anymore," Sam whispered, hugging his legs as close to his chest as he possibly could and pressing his face to his knees.

"You know you’re not alone here, don’t you, Sam? Our session is about at an end, so why don’t I have Nurse Amanda take you to the rec room. Perhaps you might make a friend or two here. You’re not alone though, Sam," Chaudhery told him in a soft voice. Sam just sniffled and shook his head.

"He can’t find me anymore."

"Try to make some friends, Sam. And don’t get upset, your brother and father will be coming in a couple of days to visit." Sam looked up from his knees to see Chaudhery reach over and turn the recorder off before placing it in his jacked pocket once more.

"Dean’s coming to visit?" If he couldn’t have Lo, Dean was a close second for Sam. He just wanted to see someone he knew. Someone he knew loved him and believed him.

"He is. Two days from now on Friday."

* * *

 _November 4th, 1997_

Sam narrowed his eyes when Nurse Amanda walked into his room with an overly bright smile on her face, and two other male nurses walking in behind her. Judging by the less than friendly looks on their faces - quite frankly, they looked bored - Sam knew he wasn’t going to like whatever it was they were in his room for.

"Morning, Sam! We decided that maybe you could give up your hoodie today, possibly? Do you think you could do that perhaps?" Amanda asked him, as cheerful as ever. Which was ironic as Sam saw absolutely nothing to be cheerful about. Not that he ever really did since Lo had left him.

"No." Okay, so it was childish and obstinate, but he was fourteen, being held against his will and he really didn’t want to give the hoodie up. It still smelt like Lo if he breathed deep enough. He didn’t want to give it up. He couldn’t.

"Now, Samuel. You have to give it to us so that we can wash it. We will return it right back to you," Amanda told him, sounding less cheerful now that she apparently realised Sam was having none of it.

"Why? It’s not dirty. I’m not taking it off," Sam snapped, scowling and wrapping his arms around his body. He stiffened when both the male nurses stepped forward.

"Mr Campbell, we need to take the hoodie from you. Either you give it t us, or we’re going to have to take it off you by force." Sam blinked, then remembered that his father had decided to admit him under the name Campbell for some reason. Sam honestly had no idea why but didn’t really think much of it. Then what the bulkier of the two men had said, hit in and Sam gaped at them.

"You can’t! I’m a minor! You can’t touch me in anyway! I know! I know this stuff!" Sam exclaimed, only getting an unimpressed look for his troubles.

"Kid, you’re so far from my type that you have nothing to worry about on that front. Look, just give us the damned hoodie. What’s so special about it anyway?" The man asked him, frustration bleeding through in his tone.

"It’s mine! It-it-I don’t want to give it up! Why do you have to take it anyway? It’s not doing anyone any harm!" Sam exclaimed, scowling and shuffling back on his bed to press into the corner. He tensed and hugged his arms around his body even tighter when the bulkier man stepped next to the bed and crouched down.

"Sam, here’s the deal, you give us your hoodie without any fuss and we’ll give it right back to you once it’s been washed. Deal?" The man said calmly, reaching out to Sam. Sam glared at him and then kicked out, shaking his head as he pressed as close to the wall as he could.

"No! No, I won’t! I can’t! It’s not mine! It’s Lo’s!! He gave it me! You can’t take it!" Sam screamed, kicking at the nurse once more, before biting at him when he tried to restrain him.

"Right, Amanda, you’re gonna have to sedate him. Joe, hold his legs down," The man told the two nurses behind him, Sam whimpered and tried to get away, kicking and trying to buck the two men holding him down off of him.

"No! Please!! I don’t want-" Sam stopped and gasped in pain when he felt the sharp prick of a needle being stabbed into him. He whimpered and gave a soft sob even as he felt the darkness encroaching. "No, dun wanna. Said no shadows."

Sam struggled and blinked, trying to keep awake. He watched as the three nurses kept an eye on him, moving him so he was comfortable on the bed, and gave one last feeble sob when he felt his hoodie being taken off of him. He finally gave in to the darkness, tears drying to leave long tracks down his cheeks.

* * *

 _November 5th, 1997_

Sam fidgeted in the seat he was sitting in, waiting for his father and Dean to get here for their visit. The visiting family members and the patient were given a small private room to have their visit in. Sam actually liked the room. It was warm and comforting, the walls actually painted in natural earthy colours, along with the chairs in similar colours. Sam considered asking if he was allowed to come and read in one of these rooms instead of being forced to go to the rec room.

"Sammy!" Sam spun in his chair and felt himself smile for the first time in what felt like years when he saw Dean standing in the doorway, their dad standing just behind him, smiling softly.

"Dean!" Sam jumped out of his seat and ran to throw himself at his brother. The force knocked Dean back and John had to steady Dean. Dean laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around Sam.

"Missed you, Sammy," Dean whispered, shocking Sam by actually pressing a small kiss to Sam’s temple. He then gently nudged Sam back a little and moved aside for John to greet Sam. John grabbed Sam’s shoulders and pulled him into a bear hug, giving Sam the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

Finally pulling back from his dad, Sam turned and walked back to the seat he had taken as his own - hopefully for more than just family visits - and waited for Dean and their dad to join him.

"So, Sammy, you doing alright?" Dean asked, breaking the brief silence they had fallen into as they all took their seats. Sam smiled weakly at Dean and shrugged silently. He wasn’t too sure how to answer that.

"I’m doing okay," is what he finally settled on. The look both his brother and father shot him showed they didn’t quite believe that.

"Chaudhery says that you haven’t mentioned Lo at all since you got here. Even went so far as to say that you’d told him Lo wasn’t around anymore. That true, Sammy?" John asked him in a soft voice. Sam watched Dean however, when his brother shot him a narrow eyed look.

"Sammy? Really? Lo’s not here?"

"No. He’s… no."

"You think Lo might be gone for good, son?" John asked him and Sam looked at him with wide eyes, finally feeling the fear he’d been trying to ignore since he’d been committed. Shaking his head and sniffling, Sam moved to hug his legs to his body once more.

"Sammy. Hey, hey, Sammy. Come on. It’s gonna be alright," Dean soothed, moving so that he could squeeze onto the chair behind Sam and pulled him onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him in comfort. Sam twisted and pressed his face into Dean’s neck, letting his tears fall and sobbing quietly.

"I wanna go home, Dean. I don’t want to be here," Sam sobbed. He felt another hand come to rub his back and pulled back a little to see his dad kneeling in front of them, looking distressed and helpless.

"Sammy, you need help. You can see that right?" John asked him, sounding distressed and almost begging his son to understand. Sam was tired with all the pretending he was doing however and wasn’t too sure he could anymore. He just nodded silently and pressed his face back into Dean’s neck. Behind him, John just sighed, whilst Dean whispered something to him that Sam couldn’t quite hear.

A few moments of silence later and Sam heard the door to the room open then close quietly. Sam pulled back to look at Dean in confusion, glancing around to see that their dad had just left.

"Dean?"

"I asked Dad to step out for a minute or two. That okay? If not, I can call him back in," Dean told him with a small, weak smile. Sam looked at him for a second or two, before he nodded and shifted to just lean against Dean.

"Why’d you ask him to leave?" Sam asked once he and Dean had settled back on the chair and were comfortably wrapped around one another once more.

"I wanted to talk to you alone. About Lo?" Dean asked, hushing Sam and rubbing his back when Sam stiffened in his hold.

"What about him?"

"I think he’s real. Who is he, Sammy? Why haven’t you told us the truth?" Sam just stared at Dean in shock. He’d suspected and maybe hoped a little that Dean believed him about Lo, but he hadn’t actually been prepared to hear it. He also possibly hadn’t considered just what Dean would have thought about Lo.

* * *

 _November 8th, 1997_

Sam silently watched Chaudhery set up the recorder on the table between them once more and sighed quietly when Chaudhery moved to sit back on his seat and smile kindly at Sam. Really, Sam was beginning to hate the man just for those kind smiles.

"Today I’d like for us to talk about your family, if that’s okay with you, Sam?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam stared at him before he just shrugged. Wasn’t like he could do anything to dissuade the man in the first place.

Chaudhery sighed in a way that suggested Sam was disappointing him in being recalcitrant or something. It wasn’t as though Sam was actually the worst patient in the place.

"So, I gathered from your meeting yesterday that you are close to your brother. Am I right on that?"

"I suppose," Sam admitted with a shrug. He wasn’t too sure how to answer, if he was honest. Sure, he was close to Dean, but probably not as close as they may have looked yesterday. Sam generally used to go to Lo first whenever he was upset. But he always knew Dean was there for him, and he knew that Dean was the one to keep quite a few bullies off his back if Lo didn’t get there first.

"How does Dean feel about Lo?"

"He hated him when we were kids. Used to scoff at me and call me childish most of the time," Sam said with a small shrug. He didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable that he was mostly lying through his teeth. Sam would fight tooth and nail to keep Dean out of this. They may not be as close as they possibly could have been, but they were brothers. Dean had looked out for and protected Sam all Sam’s life, now it was Sam’s turn to return the favour.

No one could find out that Dean believed Sam about Lo. Sam had to deal with that on his own. He’d brought it on himself by being honest and not pretending Lo had gone, like the trickster had suggested when John had first shown signs of being worried.

"And now?"

"Now I think he’s worried about me. No, I know he’s worried about me," Sam added after a small pause. He looked down at his hands and began to pick at a loose thread on his t-shirt.

"Why do you think he’s worried about you?" Chaudhery asked him, and Sam couldn’t stop himself from looking up to send the man a look that suggested he was completely stupid. Which Sam was beginning to wonder. He also wondered how polite it would seem if he casually asked to see the man’s credentials.

"He’s my brother. I’m locked up in a mental asylum. Who _wouldn’t_ be worried if someone they loved was in that situation?" Sam asked, not even bothering to hide the disbelief in his voice.

"Good point. So let’s talk more about your childhood with Dean, shall we?" Chaudhery asked and Sam sighed, knowing there wasn’t any point in asking for a change in subject. That would just mean talking about Lo if Chaudhery even went for it.

"There’s not much to talk about," Sam mumbled, actually telling the truth for once. Dean was there, he was a constant in Sam’s life and Sam had always known he could rely on him. He also knew, though, that he and Dean were a little too different in their likes and dislikes for them to actually be able to carry out a civilised conversation that wouldn’t end up in a fight and then weeks of pranking one another.

"Your father told me that you tended to travel a lot because of his job, I’d imagine that made making friends in school rather difficult. Do you think this made you and Dean closer than perhaps you would have been had you stayed in one place?"

"Who knows? Dean’s always been better at making friends than I have anyway. He was never without someone to talk to or hang out with. And I had Lo, I didn’t need anyone else. Dean was there for me should I need him and he knew the same applied with me should he need me. We were close, but we weren’t best friends. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I don’t want to hear anything in particular, Sam. I just want to talk to you, perhaps see if we can find out a reason for Lo," `Chaudhery told him. Sam shot him a venomous glare at the insinuation that Lo wasn’t real once more. There were small parts of Sam that wondered if perhaps he was right, but those doubts were soon stomped down. If only because he needed to believe Lo existed. If he didn’t, Sam had no one.

"There is a reason for him. People who think too highly of themselves need to be dropped down a peg or two. Lo is the one to do that, along with a couple of other tricksters from other cultures. The point is, Lo does have a reason for existing and it’s certainly not got anything to do with me or my imagination."

"Oh yes, Lo is the Norse Trickster, Loki. I believe, however, that you subconsciously created Lo, a powerful god, to be your friend because you didn’t feel like you met up to your family’s ideas about you perhaps," Chaudhery told him calmly, Sam just gaped at him, not entirely sure why or how he’d come to that conclusion.

"My dad and Dean never gave the impression that I’d ever done anything to disappoint them. Why would I feel I wasn’t living up to their expectations? I mean, I was a straight-A student, kept on top of all my homework, didn’t really get into trouble. Why would I create Lo when I was doing fine on my own?"

"But you weren’t, were you? All that you’ve just mentioned has happened since Lo came into existence. You admitted yourself that you were only four when you created him-"

"I didn’t create him! He’s real! I don’t know what I can do to make you believe that, but he is and no amount of psycho-babble is going to change my mind about any of this! What is the point?" Sam finally snapped, jumping from his seat in anger, hands clenched into fists at his side as he glared at the doctor and yelled out his frustrations.

"Sit down, Sam," Chaudhery told him calmly, which just made Sam clench his jaw and glare even more, though he still sat down. He’d already been sedated once, thank you, he didn’t want that to happen again. "Sam, I’ve spoken to your father when he came to visit. We’ve decided that it might be a wise idea to start you on a low dosage of a mild anti-psychotic."

"What? No! I’m not crazy! I’m not!" Sam exclaimed, wrapping his arms around himself and staring at Chaudhery with wide, scared eyes. He didn’t want to be drugged. He wasn’t insane. He didn’t want to have to be forced to take something that was for people that _were_ insane.

"You don’t have much choice in the matter, Sam. Your father has given his consent to try this course of medication and that should I feel it is needed, to increase your dosage. I’ll start you on the lowest dose tomorrow morning with your breakfast," Chaudhery said, writing down on the notebook on his lap. Sam felt a sob rise in his throat and desperately tried to keep it down.

"Please don’t. I’ll get better, I promise. I won’t mention Lo again. I’ll be quiet and I promise not to make a fuss anymore. Please don’t make me take them," Sam pleaded, eyes stinging as he blinked back tears.

"I’m afraid I can’t agree to that, Sam. I’ll inform Nurse Amanda of the correct dosage that we’re going to start you on. I think that we’ll end our session for today now," Chaudhery told him and Sam just stared at him with wide eyes. "Sam, we’re just trying to help you."

"I don’t want your help though. I’m fine!! Why won’t you listen to me?! Why won’t you believe me!! Just… just believe me!! Please!" Sam pleaded, standing up but not feeling he was making much of a difference given Chaudhery stood as well. He stood still when Chaudhery stepped up to him a clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"You’ll be fine, Sam, you just have to accept that we’re doing this for your own good. Come on, I’ll walk you to the rec room. Maybe try and talk to some people this time?" Chaudhery asked him, not waiting for an answer as he led Sam out of the office and towards the rec room. Sam just nodded mutely, feeling numb to everything.

He was going to be drugged.

* * *

 _November 11th, 1997_

Given that he’d been there for over a week, it actually came as a small surprise to Sam that he hadn’t felt a need to hoard any of the salt he found in the cafeteria. Now he realised he’d been a little lapse in that judgement and possibly somewhat mislead about the true nature of the hospital he was in.

It was as he was sitting on the floor of his room, flicking through a book Amanda had gotten him for the day, that he happened to glance up in time to see a reaper pause at the door to his room before nodding his head silently in greeting to Sam and then walking back down the corridor.

A reaper.

Which meant death.

And Sam generally felt that with death, fifty percent of the time in places like this, you got spirits. Sam did not want to become the target of some spirit that realised he could speak to them, understand them and, more importantly, be an outlet for their anger.

Of course, he should have possibly thought about how to go about getting salt before letting his panic take over and running out of his room, straight into the bulky male nurse that had held him down when he had had to be sedated. Who, apparently, was called Iain.

"Whoa, kid! What’s the rush?" Iain exclaimed, gently gripping Sam’s shoulders when he collided with him, to prevent him from falling to the ground.

"Um… I… I just needed something from…" Sam trailed off, not too sure how to go about asking for salt without coming across even more insane that he already was doing.

"What? What do you need? You alright, Sam?" Sam shrugged and sighed. There really wasn’t anyway Sam could think of to get salt from the man in front of him, and maybe part of him didn’t trust the man not to sedate him for the hell of it. Okay, so he pretty much knew that wouldn’t happen, but still, the irrational part of his mind whispered it to him loud enough for it to take hold.

"Nothing. I just… I was hungry I guess. Um… when’s dinner?" Sam asked, and he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by the shocked look that got him. He was also, not only known as the boy with the imaginary friends and unnatural attachment to a hoodie, but also the kid who didn’t eat all that much. And was possibly a little too suspicious for his own good.

"It’s not that far off, Sam. You actually gonna eat something for us today? You know that’s gonna make us all really happy to see! We’re getting a little worried about you, Kid. You’ve lost too much weight already and you’ve only been here for nine days."

"Hmm. Maybe," Sam mumbled with a shrug. He wasn’t too sure he was all that hungry actually, but now he’d kind of cornered himself into having to eat something. He really needed to spend some more time to work on excuses. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do in here. He sometimes wondered if they’d up his medication if he asked them to let him learn something. Anything. He wasn’t fussed.

"Well, that’s definitely a good sign! So, you going to go back to your room, or do you want to go be sociable?"

"My room."

"Yeah, thought so," Iain said with what Sam thought was possibly a tiny sigh. Sam just spun on his heels and made his way back to his room, not being able to help the shudder that went down his spine when he heard a call over the tannoy for all senior staff members to go to the sixth floor.

Code Blue.

"Sam, don’t go wandering. Someone will come tell you when it’s time for dinner, okay?" Iain asked him as they stopped just on the threshold of Sam’s room.

"Okay," Sam mumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. A hoodie that Dean had left for him after their visit. It may not smell like Lo, but it smelled of Dean and Sam was happy with that. His previous hoodie hadn’t smelt right since they’d taken it from him and washed it.

* * *

It was a tense hour and a half later that Sam was finally able to leave the relative safety of his room and go to the cafeteria to eat. After forcing what he felt was a substantial amount of food down, he glanced around him cautiously before he snatched the salt shaker from the table and shoved it in his pocket. Calmly, he then picked up his tray and walked over to deposit it, getting a soft smile from Amanda at the amount he’d eaten.

Getting back to his room, and Sam would fully admit that he had no idea how he was going to salt his doorway without anyone noticing every time they came to check in on him. Knowing he had a couple of minutes at least before anyone came to check up on him, Sam dragged his chair to the doorway and stood on it. Taking the salt shaker out of his pocket, he unscrewed the top and then painstakingly laid down a line of salt along the top of the door frame and just prayed that would work.

He had just gotten the chair back in it’s normal place by the window when Joe passed by his doorway and smiled at him before carrying on by his room. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Sam used the rest of the salt and made a shaky line across his window sill then finally shoved the empty shaker in his pocket and went to sit back on his bed and read. He just hoped it would be enough.

* * *

  
 _November 18th,1997_

A noise at his doorway made Sam look up, a decision he almost immediately regretted when he saw the source of the disturbance. Standing in his doorway was a young male teen, who didn’t look all that much older than Sam, looking at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Sam had made a conscious effort to ignore the rest of the patients during his short time there, so openly acknowledging someone was just going to encourage them to talk to him.

"You can see me?" Sam just stared at the boy, not too sure how to answer him. He was beginning to get used to being asked random, odd questions from the people here, but he’d never actually come across someone that thought they were invisible.

"Erm… yes?" Sam hesitantly stated, though he wasn’t actually too sure if he’d stated it or asked it. That didn’t seem to make much difference to the other boy though, as he smirked and took a step forward, only to hiss and curse when he seemingly walked into an invisible barrier. Sam mentally cursed himself for being stupid, not that he’d actually expected to run into a spirit here, and quickly backed further on his bed and away from the now angry spirit.

"Let me in!" The spirit hissed at him, and Sam shook his head frantically. Letting the boy into his room was the last thing Sam was thinking of doing. Sam shook off his own shock to look more closely at the boy, trying to see if he’d possibly missed something that would have clued him in that the boy wasn’t actually alive.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea," Sam answered shakily when it looked like the spirit was getting angrier at Sam’s continued silence, and the boy screamed angrily at him and slammed his fists against the invisible barrier. It was a that point that Sam noticed rope burns around the boys wrists, and found his eyes quickly going to look around the boy’s neck. Sam wasn’t entirely too surprised to see more rope marks around his neck as well, and Sam shuddered.

Seeing what had caught Sam’s attention, the spirit boy smirked and stopped angrily screaming and trying to get into the room, instead he just pinned Sam with a knowing look. "They did it, you know. They did this to me! I’ve been wandering these halls for years waiting for someone to talk to, _knowing_ that I would eventually find someone one day. And now I’ve found you. You can be the one to tell everyone what happened to me!"

"No," Sam whispered, shaking his head a little more forcefully and pressing back into the wall. He didn’t want to know what had happened to the boy, what _they_ had done to him. He didn’t want to know what might happen to himself should he stay there for too long.

"Why not! You’re the only one that can hear me! You’re the only chance I’ve got! Why are you being so selfish?!" The boy demanded and Sam flinched back, even though he knew he was relatively safe.

"I can’t."

"Yes, you ca-" The spirit-boy was interrupted that second by one of the staff nurses passing Sam’s room, Sam wasn’t too sure on her name, but he thought he’d heard Amanda call her Casey or something to that affect. Sam felt he should learn her name just out of gratitude at that moment however.

"Sam? You alright? I thought I heard someone talking in here. Everything okay?" The nurse asked him, and Sam stared at her with wide eyes, unable to stop himself from glancing quickly to where the spirit had been but was no longer there. A wave of relief washed over him and Sam gave the nurse a small, shaky smile and nodded.

"Y-yeah, I’m fine. I was just… I was just thinking out loud. Um… something I read," Sam told her with a feeble wave towards the book he certainly hadn’t been reading - not just because Sam thought it was a load of rubbish.

"Well, if you’re alright then, I’ll just leave you to your book. You know where to find us if you need us, okay?" The nurse asked him with a wide smile, though Sam couldn’t help but think she sounded unsure and suspicious of Sam’s answer. Not that Sam blamed her if she was.

Sam watched her walk away from his room after he nodded his head in answer to her question, and then quickly turned his attention in the direction opposite to where the nurse had left when he saw something move. He barely managed to suppress the whimper that wanted to escape upon seeing an old, frail looking man in an old fashioned style black suit just staring at him.

The only reason he actually thought he was able to hold it back, was the fact that he was well aware of who the newcomer was, though it didn’t really lend him much comfort.

"You shouldn’t be here," the being - something Sam recognised off the bat as being a reaper - told him and Sam just dumbly nodded his head in agreement. He really shouldn’t. Shame only people he could see were actually the ones that saw that and agreed with it. It wasn’t exactly something to help his cause with.

"I have no choice in the matter," Sam whispered, looking down at the blanket on his bed instead of having to look at the reaper. Seeing them and talking to them were completely different things. Though both gave him an unwavering sense of discomfort. Sam found himself having to look up, however, when his only answer was a soft sigh.

He caught a glimpse of a sympathetic look given to him from the reaper - an expression that looked strangely out of place on the man’s face - before the reaper then shook his head and faded back into the shadows. Sam gaped at the spot for a few seconds, before he felt a shiver run down his spine and pulled his hoodie around him tightly and pulled his legs up to his chest. He spent the rest of the evening pressed against the wall in that position until he fell asleep like that. One of the night staff had to move him so he would be lying down properly once they felt he was fast asleep. It wasn’t a very peaceful sleep for Sam that night.

* * *

  
 _November 19th, 1997_

Amanda paused outside the room of Samuel Campbell and frowned when she heard talking. Glancing down the hallway to the nurses station, she motioned that she was fine to Cassandra, the nurse on with her that night, then she turned back to the door to Sam’s room.

Unlocking it quietly and the opening the door a jar, Amanda bit on her lip when she heard the whimpers and cries coming from the young teen on the bed in the room.

"No! Lo! Come back to me! Please! Don’t leave me alone! No! Please, Lo!!" Sam cried out, thrashing about in his bed so much that Amanda began to worry for him. "Lo!!"

Biting down on her lip, Amanda took a step back from the room and closed the door once more, before she quickly hurried back to the nurses office. Cassandra looked up at her in shock when she all but crashed into the desk.

"Mand?"

"I think we might need to do something in room 18," Amanda told her in a rush even as she reached out to pick up the phone and dialled the number for the on-call doctor.

"That’s the newest resident, right? Campbell?" Amanda nodded as she listened to the ring tone, waiting for Dr Lang to answer.

"Hi, Dr Lang, this is Nurse Jennings from Floor Four. We have a patient down here that might need something to calm him at night. Is it possible for you to come down and see what you think?" Amanda asked as soon as the doctor answered the phone.

 _"Of course, Nurse Jennings. I’ll be right down. Try to see if you can keep him calm, but don’t put yourself at risk if you think it might be that bad,"_ Dr Lang told her and Amanda agreed before hanging up and looking at Cassandra.

"It that bad?"

"He’d calling out for Lo," Amanda told her. Cassandra went to answer before they were interrupted by a loud shout coming from Room 18. Glancing at Cassandra, Amanda quickly spun round to run to Sam’s room, knowing that Cassandra wasn’t far behind her. She froze momentarily before she flung the door open to Sam’s room and ran forward to try and stop him from hurting himself in his thrashing, Cassandra moving to help her seconds later.

"Come back! Don’t-don’t leave me! _Please_!" Amanda hushed and tried to sooth Sam’s screams and shouts, glancing at Cassandra who looked as distressed as Amanda felt. She hoped Dr Lang arrived soon. "Don’t leave me! They’re coming! I can feel them! They’re coming!"

Amanda frowned even as she tried to hold Sam’s arms down in a way that wouldn’t cause him any harm, and wondered just who was coming for him. And what the child had gone through to cause him to feel such fear.

"I heard the shouting from the stairs, good thing I thought to bring something stronger, right? I don’t think restraints would be a good idea for tonight, but we may have to consider it if it gets any worse than this." Amanda looked up as Dr Lang entered the room, and breathed a small sigh of relief at her words. Though she didn’t think she would ever get comfortable with restraining their young patients at night.

"This is the first time I’ve noticed it this bad, but I’m not a regular on nights. Cass, have you ever noticed anything like this?" Amanda asked Cassandra once Dr Lang had medicated Sam and he had slowly started to calm down. Giving a final whimper before falling asleep.

"No, I’ve never noticed anything like this from this room. I wonder what caused this," Cassandra mused, looking down at Sam, who was now the perfect image of peace. Even if it was a lie.

"Three patients died in the last week on the top floor. Sam seems to be more sensitive to these kind of things. I think he knows the emergency codes as well," Amanda told them musingly. Dr Lang looked at her with a raised eyebrow and then back at Sam.

"Really? Hmm, have you mentioned it to his doctor? Perhaps that should be the next thing they talk about in their sessions," Dr Lang said, and Amanda nodded her head, running a hand through Sam’s hair softly before standing up and walking out the room with the two other women.

"I can’t help but wonder what it is that happened to him that made him so scared," Cass quietly mentioned as the three made their way back to the nurses station. Amanda shrugged, not saying anything even though she wondered the same. She also wondered if perhaps it wouldn’t be kinder to let the boy keep his delusions of his best friend, as they clearly were the thing to keep him calm and feeling safe.

* * *

 _November 20th, 1997_

Dean frowned and cursed under his breath when his dad pulled the truck he was driving to the side of the road. Wondering what the hell was wrong, Dean pulled sharply to a stop behind the truck and then climbed out, walking to the truck. He felt a small niggle of panic when he saw that he was on the phone and just knew it would be about Sam.

"-Said there was a problem with Sam?" Dean bit down on his lip and moved to lean against the door so he could listen in on the conversation, and try to work out what was wrong with his little brother.

He looked in the mirror to see if he could work out just how bad it was from his father’s facial expressions and then wished he hadn’t when John frowned and showed some real concern.

"And you had to sedate him?" Dean jerked and moved to stand so that his dad could see him, getting a small shake of the head from the man. "How did he seem in the morning?"

"Dad?!" John shook his head to Dean once more, making a hushing motion which just Dean even more concerned for Sammy.

"Right, well we’re currently too far away to be there for him now. We were told to try and make visits only once a month or so to get him used to-" John stopped, clearly to listen to whatever was being said, whilst Dean was making mental notes on how to get back to Sam as soon as possible. He wanted to curse when he realised that would be at least a week given they were currently on a hunt.

"Right, well carry on with what you’ve been doing then. I… If you think that is needed, then I suppose that’s what you have to do. Yes, of course. Yes. Please do, yes. Thanks for letting me know. Bye," John sighed as he closed his phone and then looked over at Dean, who was about to read him the riot act.

"So? Sammy’s alright, right? What’s happened? What have they done to him? You know, I completely disagreed with your decision to drug him, right? He’s not insane! I don’t even know why he’s in there in the first place!"

"Dean, please." Dean scowled at his father, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for John to tell him what the phone call was about. After a few minutes of getting nothing, Dean got a little impatient.

"Well? What’s happened?"

"Apparently Sam had a bad nightmare last night. So bad that they had to sedate him in the end. He’s apparently alright now, just a little quiet. Though they said that wasn’t anything new," John told him, and Dean frowned, nibbling on his lip.

"Really? Sammy? He’s being quiet and that’s normal?"

"He never spoke much before he went in, so it’s not all that unusual for him to be quiet. They said he ate a little at breakfast, but chose to go back to his room to read."

"Maybe he was quiet to you, but he never shut up when he would be speaking to Lo or begging me to take him to the library. You think we’re allowed to take him books to read? I doubt they’re giving him books he normally reads."

"What does he normally read? I don’t know. Do you?" John asked him, and Dean only just managed to stop himself from gaping before he shook his head.

"Dad, where do you think all that knowledge about whatever monster of the week we were hunting came from? Sammy did most of the research. That’s what he reads. He reads what Lo suggests for him. Apparently," Dean added hastily when John looked at him suspiciously.

"Apparently? Hmm. Well, if you think you can pick out books he’d like, I don’t see any problem leaving them with his doc and getting the man to give them to Sam every so often," John murmured with a shrug. Dean sighed and added a list of books to his mental list of things to do for Sam.

"So we’re going to visit him after we’ve finished this hunt?"

"I don’t know, Dean. We’ll try, but if there’s another hunt nearby, you know we can’t ignore it."

"What, the hunt is more important than your son? Nice, Dad," Dean muttered, scowling at his father before turning on his heel and walking back to his car.

"Dean! Stop! You know Sam’s important to me! But we can’t let these things get away and kill other people! We have a job, Dean!" John shouted after him, and Dean just shook his head, chuckling dryly.

"Sure, Dad. Let’s just get to the motel," Dean said with a tired, dismissive wave over his shoulder before climbing back into his car. "No wonder Sammy chose to turn to whoever the hell Lo is"

* * *

  
 _November 21st, 1997_

"Sam! Nice to see you looking a little better today! Did you sleep better last night with the tablets we gave you?" Sam scowled at the man in front of him and then shrugged his shoulders. He refused to admit that it had indeed helped him, though it left him a little drowsy that morning. And made it feel like something had crawled into his mouth and died during the night.

He wasn’t going to admit that he considered that actually _had_ happened, either. It wouldn’t have surprised him.

"So how are you feeling today? Better than yesterday I hope!" Chaudhery carried on, oblivious to Sam’s wandering thoughts about what animal would be small enough to crawl into your mouth and die there. And if he’d choke on the gerbil before or after it died. Sam jerked when he realised that the annoying man was actually waiting for an answer.

"M’fine," Sam mumbled, shrugging and trying to burrow into his hoodie like a turtle. Sam frowned to himself at his thoughts and then began to wonder just what the new medication was doing to his mind. If he was any judge, he would swear it was actually making him more insane than sane.

"Well, that’s certainly nice to hear," Chaudhery told him with a soft smile. Sam just twitched a little but stayed silent. "So, I’d like to talk to you about something the nurse brought to my attention. She thinks it may be a reason for your nightmare."

Sam looked up and narrowed his eyes. He was fairly certain the nurse hadn’t mentioned anything about reapers and seeing dead people, so the likelihood of them actually knowing what had caused the nightmare was fairly slim.

"She told me that you seemed to know the emergency code calls in this hospital. That you knew of a couple of unfortunate events, is that true?"

"You mean the three deaths? Yeah, I knew about them," Sam told him with a sigh, curling his hands up and hiding them in his sleeves.

"And you knew the codes then?"

"If you want," Sam mumbled with a nonchalant shrug. Chaudhery frowned at him, making Sam shift uncomfortably.

"That would suggest you don’t know the codes. Would you like to share how you knew of the deaths then?" Sam didn’t think 'not particularly' was the answer Chaudhery was looking for. Though at this point Sam was hoping to look more obstinate than crazy. He supposed though, that that ship had sailed three weeks ago.

Mentally shrugging, Sam wondered what the worst that could happen was, and decided to just go with the truth for once. It wasn’t like they would actually start believing him.

"I saw the reapers." Sam barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes when Chaudhery moved the recorder closer to Sam. Really, the man needed to start reading up on some supernatural lore or something. Sam was getting fed up of being the insane go to boy.

Not that he was asking for advice on how to hunt them down. Which was good, given not even Lo would tell him the answer to that one. Not that Sam wanted to know, mind. Sam had nothing against the reapers as long as they left him alone. They creeped him out a little. But Sam noticed they would go out of their way almost to give Sam advanced warning when someone was going to die. There was no other need for them to pass by him on their way to their… targets.

Victims? Were they victims? Or at least, were they really victims of the reapers? Surely they were just doing their jobs.

"Sam?" Sam blinked when he realised Chaudhery had been speaking to him and he hadn’t heard a word the man had said.

"Sorry, what?"

"I wondered what these 'reapers' did," Chaudhery said to him and Sam just frowned in confusion. How on earth did someone not know what a reaper did. Most religions and cultures had reapers of some kind. Plus there was also that song Dean listened to.

"They take the souls of those that have passed," Sam informed the clearly dense man. Maybe he had only focused on his studies and hadn’t read anything or watched anything other than medical texts. Could explain a little.

"And you can see these things can you?" Chaudhery asked him, not even able to withhold his disbelief on this. Not that Sam blamed him. Given the route of their conversations, Sam could now see and speak to gods, faeries and reapers. Sam didn’t want to mention the brownies, sprites, restless souls and other such creatures most couldn’t see - or believe in. And by most, Sam meant anyone that wasn’t one of the afore mentioned beings.

"Yes."

"Can others?" Well, Sam should have expected the question really, he supposed. Still, did he answer truthfully or not? Sam wasn’t too sure which would help him in the long run.

"No, not everyone. The sensitive can," Sam admitted, though he was stretching the truth a little there. The psychically sensitive still couldn’t see everything Sam could. Though he was fairly certain they could possibly see reapers if they tried. Maybe.

Fairly certain.

"The sensitive? You mean, psychics and people like that?" If Chaudhery meant crazy, then Sam supposed he could have just said that instead of loosely implying it.

"Yeah," Sam said with a shrug. He didn’t really want to go into this anymore than they already had. Even that was a little too much for Sam’s comfort. Not that he was one to think of jinxing and such, but he couldn’t help but think if they kept talking about them, then one would appear and someone else would die. Really, dead insane people had less to talk about than the living ones.

"And you believe you’re one of these people?" Sam wondered if it was professional to sound so disbelieving of a patient. Though he supposed, given they’d point blank told him Lo was a figment of his imagination, why would they start indulging him now?

"No." Well he didn’t. Lo explained why he was so weird. He could also see shit that psychics couldn’t. He was 'special', which sucked and also made him sound like he had learning disabilities or something.

Which he didn’t. He had freaky demonic blood. Completely different thing. Though he did wonder if it was like caffeine and apparently stunted your growth. Sam was never going to get as tall as Dean, he just knew it.

"So how can you see them?" That was something Sam had no intention of ever answering for fear it got back to his father. Admitting his son was a little on the mentally unbalanced side was one thing, being told his son was a half-demon experiment spawn thing was an entirely different matter. Plus, that wasn’t the whole reason. Sharing a bed (and everything else) with a god for ten years would also have an effect on someone.

It made them more _sensitive_. Awesome.

"I just can. Can we put them in the same category as Lo, in which I believe he exists and you seemingly up the dosage of whatever you’re pumping into my system?" Sam snapped, and instantly regretted it when Chaudhery sighed like Sam was the greatest disappointment since Thundercats got taken off the air.

"Do you really think that’s all these sessions are about?"

"You mean they’re not to see just how insane I am? Does that mean I can go home now? Because I’d really rather not stay here if we’re only here to chat."

"Sam…" Chaudhery sighed and made a short note on his ever present notepad, before looking back up at Sam. "I think we should call this session to an end, don’t you? Think about what we’re talked about and what you told me, okay? Oh, and Sam?"

Sam froze as he was rising from his seat and cautiously straightened up to turn and look at Chaudhery in question.

"Your brother rang me earlier this morning to inform me that he wished to bring you some books when he next comes to visit. I told him that would be fine. So you will have that to look forward to."

"Did he say when he’d be coming?" Sam asked quietly, nibbling on his lip and losing all of his previous snarky attitude upon hearing about Dean.

"He said he wasn’t too sure but he hoped it would be near the end of the month or the beginning of next." Sam looked at Chaudhery for a brief moment and then nodded his head. He quickly spun round at that, seeing it as a dismissal and near ran out of the room and to his own, salt protected room.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three

 _December 1st, 1997_

Sam calmly followed behind Joe as he was led to the family room to meet with Dean. There had been no mention of their father, Sam had noticed, but he wasn’t too shocked with that one.

As soon as he walked into the room, he found himself immediately wrapped up in a huge bear hug by Dean. Clinging back as tightly as he could, Sam tried to bury as far as he could into Dean’s chest and let Dean lead him over to the small couch in the room. He absently noted the sound of Joe chuckling fondly and then shutting the door for them, but paid more attention to his brother and just allowed Dean to move him around so he could comfortably sit on Dean’s lap.

"You’re getting kinda tall for this, Sammy," Dean told him softly, but made no move to actually shift Sam off of him at all. Sam just shrugged slightly and then shuffled even closer to Dean, pressing his face to Dean’s neck. "So how are you doing, Sammy? The doc said you’d had a couple of nightmares. Wanna talk about them?"

Sam shook his head slightly, and clung to Dean tighter. Dean just gave a small sigh and rubbed Sam’s back soothingly, until Sam finally felt himself relax and slumped against Dean.

"Ready to talk yet?" Dean asked him after they’d been sitting there in silence for a little while, just taking comfort in the others presence.

"Not really."

"Sammy? Come on, man. I slept in the same room as you for the past fourteen years. I know you. You’re not one to suffer from nightmares," Dean muttered softly, nuzzling the top of Sam’s head.

"Saw stuff," Sam mumbled, feeling safer within Dean’s arms, knowing that his brother _knew_ the bad shit existed and would protect Sam from it should it ever come to that. Given that Dean stiffened a little at Sam’s admission, Sam knew Dean had apparently caught on to what Sam might have seen.

"What stuff?"

"Reapers," Sam whispered, and he looked up through his fringe when Dean nudged him back a little and looked at him seriously.

"Sam? What do you mean? How’d you see them? What happened? Were they after you?" Dean asked him urgently. Sam sighed and shook his head, knowing now was the time to come clean to Dean. At least he could be pretty positive that Dean would believe him.

"I can see them. I’ve been able to see them since I was about nine," Sam admitted in a small voice, looking down at his hands when Dean stared at him in shock. He was, therefore, completely unprepared when Dean grabbed him and tugged him to his chest, hugging him tightly.

"Sammy, dude! Why the hell didn’t you tell us? Nine? How… shit, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed quietly, both were fully aware that they didn’t want to bring any attention to their conversation by Joe waiting outside.

"I had Lo," Sam mumbled with a small shrug. Dean huffed out and squeezed Sam a little tighter before letting go completely and instead running a hand through Sam’s hair.

"I wanna thank this Lo guy." Sam smiled softly and moved to lean against Dean at that, completely safe knowing that Dean fully believed him now.

"You’d like him. He was the one behind most of the pranks we pulled on you," Sam admitted, smiling sheepishly when Dean pushed him back to scowl at him.

"I knew you had help changing the hubcaps to my baby so they were bright pink. Not funny, dude!" Dean told him, though he was smiling, clearly happy that he’d made Sam giggle uncontrollably. "Where is he, Sammy?"

"Dunno. He had to go do stuff… said he’d be back within two weeks, but that was about a week before I was sent here. I… I don’t think he can find me here," Sam admitted, sniffling a little and looking at Dean with huge, watery eyes that made Dean visibly slump.

"Any way I can find him?" Dean asked him, and Sam jerked up to look at Dean in shock.

"What?"

"If you know of a way I can get to him, then maybe he can get you out of here. Sammy, I don’t want you to have to stay in here when you don’t need to be, so do you have any clues?" Dean admitted with a shrug, and Sam just blinked in shock before he shook his head and nibbled his lip.

"I don’t… I don’t know of any way you can contact him. But maybe you could find a proper summoning spell or something?" Sam suggested, which got him a confused look from Dean and made Sam realise that Dean didn’t actually know who Lo was.

"Summon him? Like a demon?"

"Or a god. He’s Loki."

"Loki… shit, dude. You don’t do stuff by half, do you? Right. Well, I guess I’ll look into summoning the guy. Dunno how long that’s gonna take though and I can’t bring you books on the guy because they’ll keep them from you," Dean told him, sounding upset about the whole thing. Sam saw his point though.

"I know. So Chaudhery told me you would bring me books!" Sam said excitedly, deciding to change the subject from the rather depressing topic. Dean just grinned at him and shook his head.

"Yeah, I brought you about five or six books. I left them with the hot nurse you’ve got. Amanda or something?" Sam groaned. He should have known that Dean would hit on Amanda as soon as he saw her.

"What books?"

"You’ll have to wait and see! Shit you’ll probably like though. And I also left some of my hoodies and my other jacket for you too. Freaky little brother that you are. I see they didn’t manage to take this one off you, huh? Didn’t wanna have to sedate you this time?"

"I told them why I didn’t wanna give it up and kinda had to not wear it all the time," Sam admitted with a small sheepish shrug. Dean chuckled and ruffled his hair before pulling Sam back into a hug.

"I miss you, Sammy. S’not the same in the 'pala without you yabbering on about something or another. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? And you have my number, you gotta call me if anything really bad happens, promise me."

"I promise, Dean," Sam told him dutifully and he got a small smile from Dean in return.

"Good, and in the mean time, I’m gonna try and get you your Lo back, okay?"

"'Kay."

* * *

 _December 13th,1997_

A small sound at his doorway made Sam’s head jerk up from the book he was reading and he gaped when he saw a strange, pale-skinned man with dark, almost black eyes staring at him. From the feeling he got from the man, Sam knew immediately that he was a reaper.

Why the man was giving the impression he couldn’t pass the salt line, however, was beyond Sam. He knew for a fact that salt lines didn’t stop Death. Or, in this case, Death’s little helpers.

"Who are you?" Sam decided to question the man instead of driving himself insane with his confused thoughts. He placed his book to the side and slid off his bed so he could move nearer to the reaper. Sure, they gave him a creepy feeling, but he’d never actually felt fearful of them. Only of what they can do. And he knew that if they were there for him, then there wasn’t much he could do about it.

"You can call me Thomas." Sam nodded and then tilted his head to look up at Thomas, who was a couple of inches taller than Sam.

"Okay. Hi, Thomas, I’m Sam." Thomas smiled at him, a motion that actually took years off of the gaunt man’s face.

"I know who you are, little one. I’m the regular reaper around here. I’m sorry for what you’re going through. We try to make most of the souls we take move on. Sometimes though, we can’t do that. For that, I’m very sorry," Thomas told him, honestly sounding genuine in his regret. Sam smiled softly at him and nodded his head. He could sort of understand that. He’d never really blamed the reapers for everything that was going on around him now.

"Not your fault," Sam told him with a small shrug. Thomas gave a soft sigh but nodded and Sam bit his lip as he glanced at the reaper, wondering if he could ask him something and get an honest answer.

"What is it?"

"Huh?"

"I know you wish to ask me something, what is it?" Thomas told him, lips twitching in amusement and making Sam smile shyly at him as he shrugged.

"I just… I don’t understand why no one else can see them. Why they’re only a threat to me. I mean, that’s not normal with the spirits I used to to hunt with my dad and Dean. Everyone was in danger from them, they didn’t normally only show themselves to just one person. So… why now?" Sam asked, knowing that his confusion and fear was clear in his tone of voice.

"Sam, what you are seeing aren’t spirits in the sense you know them normally. This is what they are before they become spirits. It can takes years, decades even with some restless souls before they truly become something to hunt. You can… you are cursed with being able to see them from the very beginning. I am very sorry you have to have this burden, more so that you have to carry it alone."

"Can you take it away? I don’t… I don’t want it. Please, take it away!" Sam pleaded, not liking the apologetic look he was getting from Thomas.

"I’m truly sorry, Sam. I cannot." Sam just nodded his head and hugged his arms around his stomach. He knew that was going to be the answer. In fact, he didn’t even know why he’d bothered asking.

"Don’t give up hope, Sam. There are people and beings out there that are trying to find you even as we speak. I cannot leave this place, so I can’t tell them directly where you are, but by talking to you, I’ve triggered some small alarms on your person. Stay strong, Sam. And believe in those close to you." Thomas told him, then he did something that made Sam gasp in shock. He leant forward and pressed a cold, dry kiss to Sam’s cheek, before brushing over the spot with the back of his fingers.

As Thomas took a step back and then left Sam standing in his doorway in shock, neither Sam nor Thomas noticed Iain standing just in the doorway of another patients room, watching Sam with a look of deep concern on his face. Sam missed Iain walking back to the nurses station to make a note of it in his file, because he was too busy trying to work out what Thomas had meant by his parting comments and why the reaper had kissed him.

* * *

  
 _December 15th, 1997 ___

 _Two days later and Sam hadn’t seen any more of Thomas or any other reaper that might have been around the hospital, nor had he actually figured out why Thomas did what he did. He was still wondering over it as he was led to his next session with Chaudhery. Mind so stuck on it, that he didn’t really even register sitting down and Chaudhery starting the recorder for their talk._

 _"Sam, I was told something a little worrying earlier today." The sound of Chaudhery talking to him made Sam jump a little and shake his head to get rid of his thoughts._

 _"Sorry?"_

 _"I have been reading through your notes for the week and came across a note that was somewhat disturbing for us. I’d like to talk to you about it." Sam eyed Chaudhery nervously, wondering just what it was that the man wished to discuss with him. Really, Sam had other problems to worry about right now, he didn’t need to have to think how to avoid getting even more medicated._

 _"Um… okay?" Sam said, it wasn’t like he was a mind reader. The man hadn’t actually said what the 'disturbing news' was._

 _"Good. So it says in your notes that you were seen talking to someone, only no one could see anyone else around. Would you like to tell me who it was exactly, that you were talking to?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam gaped at him and the quickly looked down at his hands. "Sam?"_

 _"No one. I wasn’t talking to anyone."_

 _"It says here that it certainly looked like you thought you were talking to someone. Was it Lo?" Sam couldn’t stop the snort that escaped him at that question. Sam wouldn’t have denied Lo being there. And had Lo been there, Sam wouldn’t be sitting in this seat right now._

 _"No, Lo isn’t around," Sam mumbled, fidgeting in his seat and wishing he could be anywhere but there right at that moment. He didn’t want to admit to Chaudhery that he’d been having a polite conversation with a reaper._

 _"So, if it wasn’t Lo, then who were you speaking to, Sam? You need to tell us so that we can help you," Chaudhery told him calmly, staring at Sam with kind eyes that really just made Sam want to hit him. Which was a little mean, Sam conceded, given the other man was just trying to help him._

 _Huffing a sigh, Sam decided that given he’d already mentioned reapers to Chaudhery, he didn’t really think there was much more that could get any worse from this point. "A reaper."_

 _"A reaper? You were talking to a reaper the other day?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam rolled his eyes then nodded. "What was it you were talking to the reaper about?"_

 _"Not much," Sam mumbled with a shrug. Sure, he’d admitted what he was talking to, but he wasn’t going to actually tell them what it was _about_. Sam wasn’t quite that stupid just yet. _

"Must have been something. The person that wrote this note seems to think you were having an important conversation. Or at least, what you thought was important."

"Well, it was all in my head anyway, so does it matter?" Sam snapped, then regretted it when Chaudhery sighed in disappointment.

"Do _you_ think it was in your head, Sam?" Sam nibbled on his lip, unsure of what to say to the man, before he settled on shaking his head and looking down at his lap. "So, if it wasn’t in your head, then it was important. Would you like to tell me what it was about now?"

"Not really."

"Sam."

"Lo."

"You were talking to the reaper about Lo? So the reapers know of Lo then?" Chaudhery asked him, sounding genuinely interested. Sam had no idea if that interest was in how far Sam’s delusions went, or he was actually interested in Lo.

"Everyone knows of Loki. He’s Loki."

"Okay. So what was the reaper saying about Lo?" Chaudhery asked him, making a small note on his pad and then looking back to Sam and giving him his full attention. Which Sam really didn’t want.

"Not much. Nothing interesting to people who don’t actually believe in Lo at least," Sam muttered petulantly. He didn’t understand what it mattered what Thomas had told him anyway.

"Why won’t you tell me, Sam?"

"What’s the point? Why do you want to know anyway? It doesn’t matter! It’s not important! It’s not like you can change what was said!" Sam spat out. Chaudhery just watched him silently and then made a note. Sam had the vaguest of desires to read what the man actually wrote during these sessions. Sam was half betting on it being a grocery list.

"Perhaps not, but knowing what was said might help us work out a few things about what’s going on." Sam glared at him and then looked away and stared at the wall silently. Really, he was even less inclined to tell the man what was said now. "Sam…"

"Nothing! You can’t force me to tell you, so just give up!"

"Okay, Sam. I’ll stop asking you. However, considering this turn of events, I have decided it is for the best if we increase your dosage to the next one up and see how that works. I’ve made a note of it, so you’ll be given the new amount the next time it’s due," Chaudhery told him calmly. Sam just slumped in his seat, knowing there really was no point in fighting it anymore. No matter what he said, Chaudhery was going to up his medication anyway.

"Fine."

"I’ve also made an appointment for you with the nurse. We need to check your blood works with the medications you’re now on. One of the nurses on your floor will take you down to the second floor medical offices when it’s time for your appointment. Okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. You can go now then if you have nothing else you wish to talk about. But know that should you wish to talk about what was said at any time, then you know where to find me." Sam just nodded silently and then got out of his chair, leaving the room silently. They both knew Sam would never voluntarily go to Chaudhery to talk to him. Sam saw it as a rather empty offer really.

When he finally got back to his room, Sam dropped down to sit on his bed and let his head fall into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. The realisation that his tablet dosage was being upped finally kicking in. He no longer had any idea what to do anymore.

* * *

  
 _December 25th, 1997_

Sam turned away from the window he was looking out of in surprise when he heard his name being called softly from his doorway. He looked at Amanda in confusion when she smiled at him warmly.

"Sam, there’s a phone call for you," She told him, still smiling widely at him, even though Sam just stared at her blankly. He had no idea who would be calling him today. The fact it was Christmas day only actually registered to him when he noticed the other resident patients were all being visited by family and friends.

"Who?" Sam asked in a whisper, which made Amanda’s smile fade a little. He knew the nurse was getting more and more concerned the less Sam spoke. Not that he had spoken much whilst he was there anyway. He didn’t have anything to say to them.

"It’s your brother. Dean?" Amanda asked, as though unsure that was the name of his brother. Sam was a little confused about that, Dean was his most frequent visitor. Which wasn’t saying much given he’d only seen Dean twice.

Sam felt a small burst of happiness in his stomach though at hearing Dean had called to speak to him, and he quickly climbed off his bed and walked over to where Amanda was waiting for him. He barely withheld his flinch when she smiled down at him and ruffled his hair.

"Come on then, let’s not keep him waiting." Sam huffed quietly and followed the overly cheerful nurse to the nurse’s station where the phone was. He hoped for some privacy, but wasn’t actually expecting it.

Sam glanced at Amanda when she motioned for him to take a seat next to the desk with the phone on, and then picked up the receiver cautiously. He wasn’t completely trusting that they hadn’t lured him there for some cruel joke. Not that they had ever done that to him before. There was a first time for everything after all, and the meds he was now on were making him more and more paranoid. "Hello?"

" _Sammy! Dude, it is so good to hear your voice! Merry Christmas!_ " Sam smiled softly at hearing Dean’s voice, and relaxed in the chair a little. He noticed Amanda move to leave the office quietly, but left the door open, only giving him the illusion of privacy.

"Hey, Dean. Merry Christmas. Are you and Dad doing alright?" Sam asked, playing with the cord of the phone as he stared blankly at the wall and tried to ignore the pang of loneliness he was feeling at Dean’s absence.

" _Course we are, Sammy! Have a little faith in us, yeah?! How are you? I’m sorry we couldn’t actually be there with you today,_ " Dean told him softly. Sam shrugged before he realised that Dean couldn’t actually see that.

"I’m fine. It’s okay, Dean. I get that you wouldn’t be able to come up today. Not like we really celebrated anyway, right?" Sam asked, trying to inject a little false cheer in his voice, though not really expecting Dean to accept it.

" _True, but you were never alone, Sammy. And you and Lo used to have a good time on Christmas. You know, him being a god sure does explain how we got presents," Dean admitted with a rueful chuckle, apparently having never really given it much thought before. Sam snickered at the memory of some of the presents Lo had made for him and Dean, and then felt a wave of sadness wash over him at the man’s absence._

"I miss him, Dean," Sam mumbled, not even bothering to hide his sadness in his voice. He heard Dean sigh over the phone and felt guilty for ruining his brother’s day.

" _I know, Dude. I know. I’m trying to find something on the guy, but it’s kinda hard. Don’t give up though, okay? And you know how to get me if you need me._ " Sam nodded and then sniffled a little, trying to get himself together a little so he didn’t worry Dean anymore than he already had.

"I know. Are you going to come visit some time soon?"

" _I dunno, Sammy. I mean, we’re on a hunt right now, and I don’t actually know how long that’s gonna take us. I’ll try come to you soon though, okay? I can tell you now, I miss your freakish research skills! Dad’s suck and mine really aren’t all that great either. You’ve made us lazy!_ " Dean told him with what sounded like a forced laugh. Sam smiled sadly and wondered if he’d look a little odd to ask Dean questions on any clues they had. He guessed it would bring up too many questions in his next session.

"Okay, Dean. Just, try and come sometime, okay? I’m running out of books," Sam told him, smiling a little and pulling Dean’s jacket around him that he was wearing, hoping that it would at least give a small mimicry of Dean’s presence. It didn’t, but it did help him stay calm and not break down into tears.

" _Sure you are, Geek. I’ll make sure I bring more up when I next visit then. Stay safe yeah?_ " Dean told him, and Sam snorted, shaking his head.

"Kinda hard not to given where I am, Dean."

" _You know what I mean, Sam. Look, I found a book about Reapers in this weird little store at the last place we went to for a hunt. I’ll bring that along with a few others next time, okay?_ "

"Okay, Dean. Have you gotta go now?" Sam asked, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself pleading with Dean to stay on the line.

" _Yeah, I’ve gotta head off, sorry, Sammy. I’ll try to call you again soon if I can’t visit, okay?_ " Dean asked him, and Sam sighed almost silently, shoulders slumping.

"Of course! That’s fine, Dean! Thanks for calling today, yeah?" Sam said, faking cheer and completely belying how he was actually feeling. He had the feeling that Dean didn’t believe him all that much.

" _Sam, I was gonna talk to you somehow today. You’re my brother, gotta talk to you on Christmas Day at least! Don’t forget to ring me if you need me, okay? Gotta go, bye, Sammy,_ " Dean said, and Sam smiled sadly.

"I won’t forget. Bye, Dean. Speak to you sometime soon," Sam whispered, and then sat in silence, clutching the phone to his ear as he listened to the dial tone. He hated holidays.

* * *

  
 _January 4th, 1998_

Dean felt anxious as he noticed that the hunts he and his father were going on were getting further and further away from the hospital Sam was staying in. He didn’t understand why, surely it was a better idea to stay closer to the hospital so that they could get there quicker should Sam ever need them.

And Dean was fairly certain that Sam would soon need them in some way or another. The fact that his dad seemed to be completely focused on the hunt and not really caring what Dean was doing, however, was a small blessing in disguise. John wasn’t paying any attention to what Dean was actually reading.

Or, it would have been had Dean actually been able to find any information on Loki or gods in general. It was getting to the point that Dean was considering calling Bobby to see if he had anything. He would have done that by now if he knew for sure that the man wouldn’t get suspicious and ask John about it.

And if the man hadn’t already 'met' Lo.

Dean was pretty much stuck on his own with that, which was frustrating him. He hadn’t seen Sam since his last visit the previous month. And even though it had been years since they’d really celebrated Christmas in any way, but Dean still felt guilty that Sam had been alone during that. He only felt a little better because he’d managed to get a phone call with him.

His worry over Sammy had increased after that call, actually. His brother had been far too accepting and quiet during the whole call, and didn’t tell him anything. Not that he’d expected Sam to. They’d been trained far too well by their father not to give too much information over unsecured phone lines.

Still, Dean would have felt much better had he been able to see Sam in the past month. And if they weren’t travelling further and further away from Sam.

* * *

  
 _January 16th, 1998_

Chaudhery placed the familiar recorder on the table between then as soon as Sam was led into the room by Joe and took his usual seat. He folded his legs under his body and then proceeded to carry on with his usual habits during these sessions by playing with his sleeves.

"So then Sam, would you maybe like to talk to me about why you refuse to talk to anyone in the rec room? It says in your notes that you haven’t even attempted to make any friends here. You’ve been here for over three months now, do you not think it’s time to try?" Chaudhery asked him, shifting back to get comfortable in his chair as he looked at Sam expectantly.

"Not really."

"And why is that, Sam?" Sam huffed and shrugged. He felt a little exhausted at the end of these things with the amount of times he had to try and think what the answer was that Chaudhery actually wanted to hear.

"I just don’t need any friends," Sam admitted. Probably not the answer Chaudhery was looking for, but at this point, Sam really had no idea what he was supposed to say and what he wasn’t anymore.

"Why do you think that?"

"I don’t think it, I know it. They don’t… no one gets me! Why would I bother trying to understand them back? There’s no point. In the end they give up on you and you’re left back at the beginning where you started, friendless," Sam explained. He wondered if that was the longest sentence he’d said to the man before him. Not that he felt it was going to make much of a difference. Sam knew the man was just going to take what he said and then twist it so that Sam was wrong and everyone else was right. Or whatever.

"You know that’s not right, don’t you?" Chaudhery asked him, proving Sam’s theory on the man always saying Sam’s wrong, right. And actually contradicting it in the same way. By basically making Sam right about something. Which was kind of annoying.

"For some, maybe. But it’s right for me. Especially the people here. Why would I bother making friends with them? No one here truly wants to make friends!" Sam stated, actually moving from his normal routine by flinging his arms up in frustration because Chaudhery wasn’t getting his point.

"What makes you say that?"

"We’re all here for similar reasons, right? I get you can’t actually tell me, confidentiality and all that. To be fair, I don’t really care. But those people out there, they have their own issues and I have mine. None of us truly want to deal with any one else’s. Why try to force us? In the long run, surely it’ll just make us worse?"

"Do you really believe that? It’s actually considered a positive thing if you make friends in these type of situations. You’re surrounded by people that will have at least a small understanding on what you’re going through."

"Really?" Sam asked, not even bothering to try and hide his disbelief. He sighed and shifted in his seat so he was no longer on his legs, but hugging them. Another preferred seating position of his since getting there.

"I believe so, yes."

"So they’ve all been basically abandoned by their family and their one friend that actually _did_ get them and protected them from everything else? They’re haunted each night by thoughts and nightmares about what was going to happen now? They close their eyes and are forced to see things no one should ever have to see? They’re… they’re…" Sam trailed off and shook his head. He laughed mirthlessly, and then sniffed, scrubbing at his face to try and hold back the tears that wanted to fall.

"Sam?"

"Doctor Chaudhery, with all due respect, I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to make friends with people. I’m ready to accept that I’m disturbed. But maybe it’s time for you to accept that I’m beyond your help now," Sam added in a soft whisper, looking down at his feet and refusing to look up to see what reaction that had gotten from the doctor before him.

"Sam, look at me," Chaudhery told him. Sam glared at his feet for a second, before he finally looked up through his fringe at Chaudhery. The man was looking at him, smiling softly but not actually able to hide his concern for Sam. "Sam, we are here to help you and we will. But it’s a two way process. In order to help you, you have to give us some idea on how to achieve that."

"I don’t know how to achieve that."

"Then we work together, Sam and find out as we work through your issues. But first, you have to tell me them."

"I don’t have any! I just… I just want to be able to get out of here! I want Lo back and I want to… I want to be normal!" Sam exclaimed, though deep down he knew that wasn’t technically true. He just wanted to be normal enough to have Lo back and no longer be followed and stalked by the spirits haunting this place.

"And how do you think we should go about that? I think the fact you don’t consider yourself normal is possibly one of your issues, don’t you?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam just shrugged and settled for glaring at the man. "Perhaps we should start on that then. What makes you think you’re not normal, Sam?"

"I’m here, aren’t I? I think general consensus would agree that I’m far beyond the usual standards needed for normal. For one I had an invisible friend that only I could see and who was a god. But that’s not… that’s not what I meant. I mean… I just… I don’t know what I mean." Sam slumped in his seat and sighed heavily. He didn’t know what was going on in his head anymore and he just wanted to be able to go back to the relative safety of his own room and wallow. Maybe try to sort out what was going on in his head a little.

"Is there any way you could try to explain what you’re thinking?"

"No. I don’t know! My head is just… it’s this mess of confusion and fear and pain! I just… can we stop now? Can I go back to my room? I’m kinda tired," Sam said in a whisper, slumping in his seat as his words became truth and he felt all his energy just drain out of him.

"Okay, Sam. But I think we need to continue this conversation a little more at a later date. If we don’t, then there’s no way I can truly help you." Sam nodded slowly, and then carefully got out of his chair and stumbled out of the room. Joe was waiting for him like normal and smiled brightly at him, though it soon drooped a little when he saw just how tired and drained Sam looked.

"Long day? Come on then, Kiddo. Let’s get you back to your room. You’ve got a bit of time to fit in a nap before you’ll need to wake up for dinner," Joe told him softly, and Sam nodded and smiled at him gratefully. He was then led back to his room, and then just collapsed onto his bed. Given he hadn’t actually thought he would sleep, it came as a small surprise that he felt himself drift off almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

  
 _January 27th, 1998_

Dean glared at his father’s truck in front of him as they finally left the state that Sam was in. He’d known it would happen eventually, he’d just hoped that it would have been after Sam had gotten out. Or at least, after Dean had made some sort of leeway on summoning Loki. Now however, they were leaving when neither had happened.

Sometimes Dean would feel a small sense of resentment towards his father. He could understand the man’s need to hunt. His need for revenge for their mother. But he couldn’t understand why Sam came second to this in their father’s mind. Sam was everything to Dean, why wasn’t that the same for their dad.

Dean groaned to himself and hit the steering wheel. He knew he was being unfair to his dad. John had never given the impression that he didn’t care about Sam, and Dean knew that. He was just frustrated that they were finally moving further away from Sam than Dean was comfortable with. There was no way they could get to Sam quickly now should his baby brother need them.

Dean felt that this was probably the worst birthday present his father had ever given him. At least they were going to Bobby Singer’s house, so Dean could ask the man for a couple of books to give Sam when he next visited him. And make no mistake. Dean was definitely going to visit Sam again.

As soon as he could. And if it was possible, he was going to drag his father there with him. Dean gave a small sigh as he shifted in his seat, following behind his father as they made their way to Bobby’s house and yet another new hunt. He actually had no idea what they were going to be hunting this time. He hadn’t lied to Sam in his last call to him, he and his father had gotten lazy with Sam around to do all the research and now they really kind of sucked at it.

For the first time in his life, Dean found himself hating being a hunter. He couldn’t help but wonder if any of this would have ever happened had they not been hunters. It was no longer fun and thrilling to know they were saving the lives of other people. Not when it left a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought that they were putting complete strangers before Sam.

* * *

  
 _February 28th, 1998_

Sam shuddered from his place curled up and pressed as close to the corner of his bed as he could physically get. He could see the latest victim wandering outside of his room, and knew it was only a matter of time before the screaming and begging started. Before Sam couldn’t block it out any longer and started to beg right back at them.

"I know you can see me. Can you hear me too?" Sam couldn’t suppress the second shudder than ran down his spine at the sickly sweet voice the ghost had. He tried to ignore her, but found his eyes being drawn to where the girl had literally ripped and torn at her wrists.

Sam found that in this place, he didn’t need to take any wild guesses on how the person had died. He normally had visible proof in horrific bloody technicolour.

"You can, can’t you? That means you can tell them what I think of them! Why I did it! Why I ripped my arms open on the only surface available to me. They never considered that the little dip before the u-bend in a toilet could be dangerous. It’s rather sharp you know. Did the job."

Sam started to hum to himself, clapping his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out what the girl was telling him, feeling ill as images pushed into his head involuntarily.

"Don’t ignore me! They always ignored me! Tell them! _Tell them_!!!" She screamed at him, pacing furiously along the barrier Sam had created with the salt. Sam flinched back at the angry scream and sniffled quietly, feeling a tear run down his cheek.

"I can’t," Sam whispered, and realised acknowledging the angry spirit in front of him wasn’t the wisest of ideas. At least he now knew why no one else seemed to see them. Why they weren’t yet what he had grown up hunting.

"Yes you can!! Tell them! Tell them it’s all their fault! I’m dead because of them!" She screamed, banging against the barrier and making Sam whimper in fear even as he pressed even more against the wall. He mentally pleaded for one of the floor staff to come by his room and make the spirit go away, but given he’d been pretending to be asleep when they came round to take everyone to lunch, he knew it wasn’t likely.

"No. No. I _can’t_!" Sam whispered, shaking his head and gripping his hair then tugging at it. He wanted her to leave him alone. He wanted them all to leave him alone. He didn’t understand why he was so cursed as to having to see them.

He didn’t understand why Lo had left him.

"You’re just as bad as everyone else in here. No! You’re worse! You can hear me! You can pass on my message! Tell them why I did it! Why I had to do it!"

"Go away. Go away. Go away," Sam started to rock slowly, hugging his legs to his chest and pressing his face into his knees, hoping the insane, furious spirit would leave if she noticed he was no longer listening to her. Under his breath he carried on chanting.

"Don’t ignore me!!!" Sam gave a muffled sob at the enraged shriek and finally started to wonder if Lo was perhaps just a figment of his imagination, like they’d all said. A coping technique to get away from this.

Sam made a decision then and there to make a new coping technique. From then on, Sam decided he just wasn’t going to speak anymore. If he spoke to no one, eventually it would be less forced and become an actual state of mind. If he became mute, then there was no way he would be able to speak to the spirits and no was to actually pass on the message. Maybe then they’d leave him alone.

* * *

  
 _March 3rd,1998_

By the end of the third day of March, Amanda noticed one important thing about Sam Campbell. He hadn’t spoken one word to anyone. Not from the moment he woke up to when he’d finally been given the medication to make him sleep. Sam being silent wasn’t all that unusual, Amanda conceded, but to not speak at all, that was something that concerned her a little too much.

After finally locking the door to Sam’s room, Amanda made her way back to the nurses station to relax for the last couple of hours of her shift, and maybe talk to Joe about Sam.

"Hey, Mands. Everyone out and okay?" Joe asked her as soon as she took a seat and reached for the mug of coffee waiting for her. She loved Joe for that.

"Hmm. At the moment it looks so. Let’s hope it stays that way, huh?" Amanda said with a wry smile. Joe just snickered and shook his head, clearly agreeing with her. "Joe?"

"Yeah? What’s up? Something happen when you were making rounds?" Joe asked, immediately showing concern and making her smile a little, shaking her head.

"No, just, you pass Sam Campbell’s room a lot, right? Try to get him to socialise a little every day?"

"Yeah, I took him down to dinner earlier as well, why? Has he done something? He’s not really one of the most difficult of patients we have on this floor," Joe pointed out, frowning in confusion as he clearly tried to work out at where Amanda was going with this.

"No, he’s really not. That’s kinda the problem. Has he spoken to you at all today?" Amanda asked him, truly hoping that the answer was going to be in the positive. She didn’t want to have to report that their patient no longer seemed to be talking.

"Now that you’ve mentioned it, no he didn’t. He didn’t speak at all, even when I asked him direct questions. Which is a little odd. The kid’s kinda quiet, but he doesn’t normally come across as being rude or ignorant. You think he’s okay?" Amanda nibbled on her lip and shrugged.

"I don’t know. He sort of reminds me of a bird sometimes."

"How so?"

"Birds don’t let you know they’re sick until it’s generally too late. I’d imagine Sam’s a bit like that. Won’t tell you what the problem is until it’s too late," Amanda said quietly, glancing back down the corridor towards Sam’s room with a frown.

"You think he’s ill?"

"Not necessarily. I honestly don’t know. That’s what worries me. I don’t want to put up an alarm in case it’s nothing, but then at the same time I don’t want to ignore it in case it isn’t."

"Ah, maybe make a note that he hasn’t spoken at all today and then keep an eye on him for the rest of the week? See if it’s still the same?" Joe suggested, Amanda glanced at him and then nodded.

"Okay, it’s really the only thing we can do, isn’t it? I just feel so helpless! It’s like he’s slowly losing the will to live!" Amanda exclaimed, frustration clear in her voice.

"You think he’s suicidal?" Joe asked, clearly shocked at the exclamation.

"No, but I don’t think he’s got much fight left in him anymore. I sometimes think it would be kinda to let him live with his delusion."

"It’s like that with them all sometimes though. In the long run, we’re helping him. We’ve just got to get him to see that," Joe said to her softly. Amanda sighed and dragged a hand through her hair.

"I know, just difficult to remember that at times." Amanda gave another sigh and then straightened. "Right, I’ll make a note in his file about it and then see how it goes for the rest of the week, you’re right. It’s the only thing we can do."

* * *

  
 _March 7th, 1998_

Sam stared at Chaudhery blankly, silently tugging Dean’s jacket closer around himself and letting the warmth just embrace him. He also took a small amount of glee in noticing that Chaudhery was beginning to look uncomfortable in his concern over Sam’s continued silence.

"Amanda tells me that you stopped talking a few days previously. Would you like to break your silence and tell me why?" Chaudhery asked him calmly. Sam just blinked at him and shrugged. He wasn’t too sure if he could give an answer.

Chaudhery sighed softly and made a note on the pad on his lap. Sam couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t a recorder for the first time since they’d started having weekly sessions.

"Can you tell me if it’s for an actual medical reason? Are you hurt?" Chaudhery asked him, concern in his voice.

Sam continued to stare at him but shook his head in answer, just so that they didn’t think to start examining him.

"Well, that’s good at least. Is there an actual reason for you no longer speaking?" Sam wondered what the question was actually supposed to imply, but nodded instead of letting his confusion show. No need to let them know just how paranoid he was getting these days. "Hmm, will you write down what the problem is?"

Sam stared at the man for a good few moments, just pondering over the damage that it would cause if he agreed to that, especially given since they’d last upped his medication after being caught talking to that damned reaper. He decided that he really didn’t want to be put on any more tablets that would dull his senses any further. He was having trouble concentrating on anything for longer than a few minutes now as it was. He didn’t like how they were making him so empty. Making his decision, he bit down on his lip and shook his head.

"And you’re certain it’s not medical in any way? That you’re not hurt?" Chaudhery pushed. Sam wondered if the man was hoping that was the answer as the solution would be easier.

All the same, Sam knew he wasn’t sick and that that certainly wasn’t the reasoning behind his silence, so he shook his head. He wasn’t surprised at all when Chaudhery just looked at him sadly and then shook his head.

"Okay, if you’re sure that you’re fine physically, I don’t suppose there is really much reason for us to continue this today. I’ll talk to you again in our next session. See if you’ve decided to speak since then." Sam didn’t think it was very likely.

* * *

  
 _May 2nd, 1998_

Sam was once more led to the nurses station after being told that there was someone on the phone for him. Given it was his birthday, Sam knew it was either going to be Dean or his dad. Sam had a mental bet going on Dean. His father had never rang him in all the time he had been in the hospital.

Going to sit in the same chair he had sat in on Christmas Day, Sam gave a small nod and smile to Amanda when she ruffled his hair then left the room. Sam waited until he knew Amanda had left the room and Sam had as much privacy as he knew he was going to get with the door still open, before he picked up the phone.

"Hello?" Sam’s voice was whispery from disuse and he coughed a little as it felt like throat was sticking together.

" _Sammy! Dude, you okay? You sound like you’ve got a bit of a dicky throat there, Sam._ " Sam smiled a little at the sound of concern in Dean’s voice and relaxed a little into the chair, sighing with a bit of happiness at just hearing Dean’s voice.

"I’m fine, Dean. Just a bit of a sore throat," Sam lied, wincing as he did so but not wanting to be questioned on why he wasn’t talking anymore. He knew Dean would believe him, but he also knew Dean would want to do something to help him and there wasn’t anything.

" _Hmm, if you say so. Anyways, Happy Birthday, Sammy!!!_ " Dean cried out happily, making Sam chuckle quietly, smile growing wider.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam whispered, clutching at the phone a little harder as though hoping it would make him feel closer to Dean at the very least.

" _Me and Dad are really sorry we couldn’t be there for you, Sammy! I posted your present and should get to you in the next couple of days if you haven’t already got it. Have you?_ " Dean asked him. Sam nibbled his lip and wondered what the gift was, but then realised he hadn’t answered.

"No, I haven’t received it yet. Thank you in advance. I love it," Sam said with a weak chuckle, getting a louder laugh from Dean on the other end.

" _Good to know!_ " Dean exclaimed, still chuckling lightly. " _So how have things been on your end? Alright? Heard anything from Lo or… seen anymore reapers?_

Sam smiled at the concern he heard in his brother’s voice once more and the absolute lack of mocking. It made him feel a burst of sheer gratitude towards Dean for actually never doubting him.

"It’s… it’s been alright," Sam told Dean with a shrug. He ignored the twisting in his stomach at lying to his brother, but he really didn’t want to make Dean feel bad about anything. Sam was dealing with it on his own. Possibly not well, but dealing.

" _If you’re sure,_ " Dean said, clearly not believing a word Sam was saying but letting his carry on in his lies. Once more, Sam felt gratitude towards his brother was over him.

"I am. So what have you and Dad been up to? Where are you now, actually?" Sam asked, wanting to just talk about something other than his own problems. Plus he wasn’t entirely comfortable talking anymore.

" _Right now? We’re in a place near Baton Rouge. I have no idea what we’re hunting and I’m not too sure that Dad does either. Or Bobby…_ " Dean said, trailing off. Sam smiled before he frowned in confusion.

"Bobby?"

" _Yeah, Bobby’s with us. Came down when Dad rang him asking what the hell we were hunting._ "

"Well… what are the clues?"

" _That’s the thing. Missing people, then their bodies showing up a few days later decapitated. No heads have been found yet either. The body count is now 12. And frustratingly? There’s nothing linking the victims! We can’t even try and track it down through that!_ " Dean exclaimed and Sam just knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Sam nibbled his own lip, frowning as he considered something.

"Um… Dean?"

" _Yeah? You have an idea Sammy? Because really, at this point, even Bobby is at a loss!_ " Dean told him, sounding like he really did hope Sam had the answer for him. Sam thought he maybe did, but wasn’t too sure he wanted to say.

"Well… Two things really. First…" Sam paused and wrinkled his nose, free hand fiddling with a piece of paper left on the desk, "are you sure it’s not a human? I mean, a really sick human, but still a human?"

" _Honestly? I er… I don’t think any of us actually considered that. Fuck. If that turns out to be the case then that is seriously fucked up! Damn… Wait. You said two things. What’s number two?_ " Sam nibbled his lip in order to buy himself some time and try to work out how to voice the second one without panicking Dean and making him drive to Sam as quickly as he can, abandoning everything else. It was going to be hard.

"I… See… I can possibly ask?"

" _You telling me or asking me? Ask who? Sammy, what the hell are you talking about?_ " Dean asked him and Sam only just held back the groan as he heard the barely concealed beginnings of worry and panic in Dean’s voice.

"The people who have to deal with clean up. They’re on the scene at the time, right? I er… well… one kinda talks to me every so often. Keeps me updated on things. I could ask him, see if he can find out. Then I could ring you once I find out."

" _That’s… that doesn’t sound safe, Sammy. What the hell are you doing talking to reapers?!_ " Dean shouted at him, making Sam cringe a little.

"He’s nice. He helps me. Tells me that they’re trying to do the same thing as you are for me but in other ways. He might be able to help."

" _I dunno, Sammy. It sounds like a risky idea. I’ll run what you said about it possibly being a human by Dad and Bobby first. See what they think about that idea. If you’re right on that one, I’ll give you a ring. If you’re not, then I’ll ring you as well but this time to tell you to ask your reaper friend. Just… promise me you won’t ask him until I give you the say so._ " Sam pouted, but agreed anyway. He could sort of understand Dean’s hesitance, but it annoyed him anyway. Being stuck in that hospital just made him useless. He wanted to help.

They ended the call soon after that, with Dean demanding he promise him not to speak to Thomas or any other reaper about what they were possibly hunting until Dean said he could once more before hanging up. Sam left the nurses station soon after that, mutely nodding his thanks to Amanda and then making his way back to his room. He just hoped his dad, Dean and Bobby stayed safe.

* * *

When Dean rang back four days later, it was to quickly state that Sam was apparently a genius and it had indeed been a human. Dean also added that human’s creeped him out more than the monsters they normally hunted.

After he’d hung up, Sam wondered if Dean hadn’t just told him that so that Sam didn’t have to speak to another reaper. Not that it would have stopped Sam. He’d only promised not to ask Thomas about the thing Dean was hunting. Dean said nothing about speaking to him about Lo or just in general.

Of course, all of that implied Sam was going to talk and Sam knew he just couldn’t risk getting back into the habit of speaking all the time. He’d finally gotten to the point where it was no longer second nature to answer back whenever spoken too, and the spirits seemed to finally be noticing that.

* * *

  
 _June 28th, 1998_

Sam was actually shocked when Amanda had come to his room and had told him that he had a visitor. He was less shocked to find the visitor was Dean, but still surprised that Dean had managed to get to him at all.Though he supposed he shouldn’t have been.

All the same, he threw himself into Dean’s arms as soon as he entered the room and clung on to him, as was becoming the norm for Dean’s visits, and following with another habit, Dean led them both to the couch and sat them down on it.

"Sammy?" Dean asked after they’d been siting on the couch in comfortable silence for a small while. Sam shifted to show Dean he was listening. "Wanna tell me why they said you’d stopped speaking a few months ago?"

Sam just shrugged and nibbled on his lip. He glanced down at his lap when Dean gently pushed him back so that he could look at him.

"Sam?"

Shrugging once more, Sam gave a small sigh and opened his mouth, before shutting it with an audible snap. He then shuffled around a little, and pulled a small notebook and pencil out of Dean’s jacket pocket that he knew would be there. Tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, Sam scribbled his answer down and handed it to Dean.

"You can’t remember how? Sam, dude, I know you. I practically raised you. Don’t kid me, I know that you remember how to speak. What’s the real reason?" Dean asked him sharply, handing him the notebook back and ignoring Sam’s pleading wide eyed look. "Sam."

Sam huffed and scowled at Dean, before he snatched the notebook out of Dean’s hands and hastily scribbled another answer down.

 _They won’t leave me alone. If I can’t talk, they can’t demand I tell people what they want._

"What who want? Who won’t leave you alone? Sammy?" Dean asked once he’d read what Sam had written.

Sam sighed and held out his hand for the notebook. When Dean handed it back to him, Sam paused with the pencil over the paper, wondering just how he could word it and how wise it would be to just tell Dean the truth.

 _No one in particular, just my nightmares. I just ~~thi~~ It’s just nightmares. I think I’m being stupid and now I’ve just… it’s a habit._

Dean took the notebook when Sam handed it to him and read what Sam had put, frowning as he did so, then looking at Sam shrewdly.

"You wanna try telling me the truth?" Dean asked, prompting Sam to gape at him and then scowl, moving swiftly and punching Dean’s arm. Dean snorted and shook his head, shoving Sam gently back. "That you saying you are?"

Sam nodded, feeling proud of himself for how well he was learning to lie in this place. And Lo had always said he was a lost cause when it came to learning to lie. If only he could see him now. With that thought, Sam’s heart clenched and his breath hitched.

"Sammy?" Sam just shook his head and nibbled his lip. "Hmm. Sam? If the nightmares are as bad as you’re saying, why haven’t you told anyone?"

 _I don’t want to be drugged more than I already have been. It’s weird. I don’t… I don’t like how it makes me. It’s like I can’t see even though I know I can._

"I don’t-" Dean paused and dragged a hand over his face with a heavy sigh, looking back down at the notebook in his hand and then handing it back to Sam, who was watching him anxiously. "I don’t get what you mean."

 _It’s hard to explain! It’s like I don’t have an imagination or thoughts or anything. I don’t have the ~~time~~ ~~inclina-~~ I JUST CAN’T! It’s like I’ve lost the ability! The most fantasy I can think up these days is whether or not I just made Lo up! Did I Dean? Am I really just so insane that I made up a friend? I can’t find the energy to bring myself to believe anymore. It hurts too much. But it hurts even more to think that my only friend, other than you, wasn’t actually real._

Sam slumped and felt as though he was a puppet and someone had cut his strings when he finished scribbling his answer and then handed it to Dean, who watched him with obvious concern. Once he’d finished quickly reading over what Sam had wrote, he dropped the notebook to the side and yanked Sam into a hug. Pressing small kisses to Sam’s hair, Dean whispered nonsense words as Sam clung to him and finally broke down, sobbing out his pain and hurt.

Finally after what felt, to both brothers, like a lifetime later, Sam’s sobs started to calm down until he was just sniffling and hiccoughing into Dean’s shoulder. Though his grip on his brother didn’t loosen at all. Dean just carried on soothing Sam, rubbing his back as he moved them both to get more comfortable.

"Sammy…" Dean sighed and nuzzled into Sam’s hair whilst trying to work out how to say what he wanted - and needed - to say. "I don’t know if it’ll help at all, but I believe Lo exists, Sammy. I think back to the things you two got up to when you were younger and… Sammy, some of the things you did, they just ain’t possible for a tiny eight year old to do. I honestly have no idea what you’re going through, admittedly, but Sam, _I_ believe in Lo. I believe in _you_."

Sam sniffled and keened softly as he listened to Dean’s words, pressing his face in Dean’s neck. He nodded his head to show Dean he was listening and then just tried to get as close to his brother as he could.

The two spent the rest of Dean’s visit pressed together on the couch in the room, Dean soothing Sam quietly and just giving him as much comfort as he could.

* * *

  
 _August 29th, 1998_

Sam shuddered and stared at the open doorway to his room from his spot in the corner. He’d just witnessed his third spirit of the day — two more than he normally got — and he was terrified to find out if there would be anymore. It was only lunchtime and Sam was nearing the end of his mental capacity for the day. He wasn’t sure he could take any more mental abuse that he would get screamed at him.

He felt a tiny whimper escape him when the now ever familiar wave of cold washed over him — a feeling that he only ever noticed when he was waiting for the inevitable visit of the day — and he pressed himself even more into the wall, fingers scrabbling at the wall in a feeble attempt to claw himself away from what was to come. He didn’t notice the small trails of blood his abused and torn nails left on the wall, only noticed the young man standing in his doorway, looking smug and knowing as he stared at Sam.

"It’s never ending, you know. The pain you’re feeling inside. The need to just yank it out and let it be free. I should know. I felt it too. I felt my freedom when I finally gave in to the urge, as well. You should try it, Sam." Sam jerked in shock and whined quietly upon hearing the spirit say his name. It was the first time one had ever actually seemingly known his name, and for some reason, the fact this one knew it left a feeling of dread deep in Sam’s stomach.

Sam tried to get even closer to the wall in his fear, never realising that it was an impossible feat. And his scrambling, clawing at the walls increased in it’s desperation.

"You won’t ever get away from it unless you rip it out, Sam. Trust me, I know. Just let it out. Forget about everyone else, what do they care anyway? I’ve seen it, Sam! You have even less visitors than I had! Just let it go and then you’ll be free. I’ll be free. It’s what we all need. Rip. It. Out." Sam shook his head, balking at the sight of the spirits blood-covered clothing and the gaping wound in his stomach. Tears began to run down Sam’s face as he tried to frantically get away from the most disturbing spirit Sam had met yet, and that was saying something considering some of the spirits he’d been victim to since arriving.

"You’ll regret it, Sam. Hear me now, you’re gonna regret it all." It was with that ominous warning that the spirit vanished from Sam’s doorway and Sam looked up to see Amanda walking into his room with a soft smile on her face that barely concealed the worry in her eyes. Sam just stared at her silently for a second, before he gave a soft tired sigh and looked away. Resting his head against the wall, Sam closed his eyes and tried to get into an even smaller ball, heading off anything Amanda might have said to him.

* * *

That night Sam felt an almost overwhelming sense of anxiety when he realised it was time for the nurse to come in with his sleeping tablets. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason for his anxiety, but he’d been getting disturbingly realistic dreams whenever he had fallen asleep naturally. And a small part of him that Sam wasn’t entirely sure was sane, whispered that what he was dreaming was actually happening. That he was seeing something real or would _become_ real. And that was something Sam refused to look into, it was too horrifying for him to realise as truth.

And now, Sam had a sinking feeling that his sleeping tablets would no longer keep the nightmares and… visions away. He felt they were too strong and that there was no manmade drug available that would keep them away.

Sam didn’t want to sleep anymore. He didn’t want to stay here anymore and he knew he had to leave. He had to leave the asylum if he wished to keep his sanity and, ultimately, if he wanted to stay alive. Oh, he was fairly certain nothing could hurt him in his room, but Sam’s mind was slowly falling apart and he knew he would eventually stop _wanting_ to live. Not that what he called what he was doing right now living. No, right now he was just surviving. Just barely.

And he didn’t think he could keep it up for much longer.

So Sam knew he had to get out. He had to leave. First though, he had to survive the night. Sam flinched at that thought, and watched silently when his door was opened and Cassandra walked in with her ever cheerful demeanour that Sam couldn’t help but think was entirely inappropriate given her job. Not that anyone asked him. Or that he’d tell them if they had.

Still, no matter how cheerful the woman was, Sam watched her just as warily and felt his dread just notch higher with each step she took towards him. His fear had taken over and he could no longer even register the random cheerful crap she normally shared with him each night, and Sam felt himself almost slip into a catatonic state. He was only dragged out of it when Cassandra actually placed a hand on his arm, making Sam jerk and stare at her, her concerned stare indicating she had clearly asked him something.

Sam just shrugged in answer to whatever it was she had asked him, and then shakily took the tablets he just _knew_ weren’t going to work. He swallowed them with a wince, and allowed the nurse to cover him with his blanket, even as he felt his terror rise and his eyelid droop.

He needed to get out. He couldn’t survive this hell for much longer.

* * *

  
 _August 31st,1998_

After finally checking and double checking that he’d grabbed everything he might need should he succeed in his plans to escape the hospital, Sam grabbed Dean’s old jacket and pulled it on before grabbing the small pile of belongings he had. He’d waited until it was dinner time, pretending to be asleep and knowing that that was when there was the least amount of nurses on the floor. He didn’t actually know of any other time that he could succeed in his plans, and he knew he had to get out.

There was something out there that was blocking him from calling out to Lo and Sam needed to get out of the hospital and away from whatever it was. Plus he really needed to get away from all the spirits waiting to haunt the hospital and trying to get Sam to become their official spokesperson or something. Sam really wasn’t agreeable with that idea.

So he was getting out, he just wasn’t too sure on how.

Sam opened his own door slightly and looked out into the hallway, nibbling his lip and slipping out of his room quietly when he saw no one around. He could hear a nurse at the nurse’s station talking on the phone to someone, and saw that as his chance to pass her. Quickly darting down the hallway, Sam crouched low and passed under the desk and past the nurse still gossiping on the phone, then flattened himself against the wall next to the desk. He knew he was going to need a pass to get through all the main doors out of the hospital, including the ones to the stairs. He only saw one way of going about that and knew it was possibly going to be the main point that he would be caught.

He had no choice however, so he took a deep breath and looked around the side of the large round desk and grinned slightly upon seeing that the nurses jacket, with pass attached to the front, was draped over the back of the chair she was sitting in. Stealthily crawling towards the back of the chair, all the while making sure the woman’s attention was completely on her phone call, Sam reached out and grabbed the pass. Mentally whooping, Sam backed away and then darted away in a crouched run once he was clear of the desk.

Sam was well aware that using the main elevators would be a foolish thing to do - well, more foolish than his whole escape plan was already - so he’d already made a note on where the emergency staircase was. Swiping the pass over the reader, Sam’s grin grew wider when the door clicked open. Sam quietly and quickly darted through the door and shut it as silently as he could behind him. He took a second, leaning on the door, just to take a breath and let the realisation that his plan was actually seemingly working just hit in.

However, he knew that he really didn’t have all that long before dinner was officially over and someone would realise Sam was no longer where he was meant to be. So he quickly began to run down the steps as fast as he could whilst still making as little noise as possible.

He’d reached the second floor before he came across a small problem in his plans that he hadn’t ever considered. The fact that he was no longer protected by a line of salt.

"You shouldn’t be here." Sam gave a stifled yelp and spun around to face the voice, losing his balance on the step and falling down the last four steps. Landing on his back, Sam fearfully glanced up to see a young girl, no older than twelve, standing at the top of the staircase Sam had just fallen down. She was looking at him with a strange mix of curiosity, disappointment and anger on her face; Sam couldn’t help himself from giving a small whimper and crab crawling backwards away from the girl. She had straggly mousy brown hair hanging around her face and was wearing a white nightgown, the front of which, however, was covered in vomit and blood. Sam could take a guess at how she had died. "What do you think you’re going to do? You think you can get away from here? From us? You think you’re the first to have tried?"

"N-no! I don’t… I don’t think that! Just…" Sam stopped himself and quickly got to his feet as soon as his back hit a wall. Without taking his eyes off the girl, Sam grabbed his dropped belongings and then darted for the next flight of stairs that would hopefully get him to the first and final floor of the building.

"You can’t leave us!! We couldn’t leave, neither can you!!" The girl shrieked at him, and Sam couldn’t contain his cry of pain when he was dragged backwards and into the wall he had just tried to get away from. The girl was now standing right in front of him and Sam knew his plans of escape were slowly slipping away from him. By now his absence had been noticed, given he’d heard them call over the tannoy about it two floors back, and with this delay Sam knew that his chance of escape was slim to none.

Still, he had to try or else he really wasn’t going to get out of the staircase alive. The girl in front of him would make sure of that once she realised that Sam wouldn’t pass on whatever message it was she had. With that thought in mind, Sam managed to push through the spirit in front of him, shuddering as he did so, and practically flung himself down the rest of the stairs. Upon reaching the door, he fumbled with the pass, flinching as he heard an angry scream behind him and no longer bothering with stealth upon hearing the click of the lock. Sam flung the door open and stumbled through, glancing over his shoulder one last time in time to see the infuriated spirit girl glare at him before vanishing like a small whisp of smoke.

With escape still in mind, only with even more desperation behind the need now, Sam spun around and darted towards where he could see the main doors. He’d just reached them, when he felt someone grab his arms and Sam screamed in fear. He struggled and fought to get out of the grip of whatever had grabbed him, using his nails to claw at the hands clutching his arm. Upon feeling another set of hands grab him on his other side, Sam whimpered and struggled even more. Kicking out blindly as he tried to reach out to the doors. He knew once he’d passed through them, that he would be relatively safe. Or, at the very least, more safe than he currently was.

It was a muttered 'Sorry, Kid' in his ear that was the last thing he heard before he felt a sharp pinch in his neck and the world started to fade out. Sam struggled feebly for a few seconds more before whatever he had been injected with took over his system and Sam passed out.

* * *

  
 _October 21st, 1998_

Dean followed behind John as they walked through the hallways to the family rooms at the hospital Sam was currently in, barely managing to stop himself from just running forward just to see his brother. He couldn’t actually remember when the last time he’d actually managed to see Sam had been, though he was fairly certain it had been a far too long ago. Dean had been worried about Sam then, and now with passing news each day, Dean’s worry had increased considerably.

"He’s gonna be alright isn’t he, Dad?" Dean asked, looking at John as he stepped up to walk beside him. John sighed and shrugged, glancing out the corner of his eyes at Dean.

"I don’t know, Dean. The doc says we’ve gotta be prepared for what we see when we get there. Apparently Sam’s taken a turn for the worse over the past couple of months," John told him, voice weary as he did so. Dean was well aware that John was beginning to wonder if his decision about Sam had been the right one, and Dean had certainly made no effort in reassuring the man. Dean knew Sam didn’t belong there, he just wasn’t sure how he could let people know that without booking the room right next to Sam’s.

"Well, let’s go see him then!" Dean said with false cheer, hurrying along the rest of the way to the room they would be meeting Sam in and pausing by the door to wait for John to catch up with him. He then pushed the door open and only just managed to hold back his gasp of shock upon seeing the only other occupant of the room.

Sam was currently curled up in a ball on the chair in the corner farthest from the room, he was hugging his knees tightly to his chest and looked like he’d lost even more weight since the last time Dean had seen him. The jacket Dean had given him to wear was almost drowning him now. Sam’s long brown hair was hanging limply in front of his face, which was pale and made Dean feel himself pale just seeing him. All in all, Sam looked like he’d been through hell and back, and Dean couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty for that and silently vowed to himself that he would work even harder to find Loki.

"Sammy?" Dean called out gently, making Sam jerk in his seat and look up at them both with wide, fearful eyes. It was only once his eyes locked with Dean’s that he actually relaxed somewhat and smiled shakily at them both. He gave them a small wave in greeting, before moving back to hug his legs.

Dean turned to look at John next to him, shrugging when John looked at him questioningly, then turned back to Sam and walked over to the chair nearest to the one Sam was sitting in. He left the couch to John and looked at Sam a little closer once he was sitting. He could see small tremors racking Sam’s body, and his lips were all cracked and bleeding from where Sam had been nibbling and chewing at them constantly.

"Sammy, what’s happened?" John asked, making Dean frown at him for his no nonsense tone and for making Sam jump and look at their dad fearfully. Sam glanced to the side at Dean, then back to John and shook his head.

"Sammy… is it the problem we spoke about the last time I was here?" Dean asked him gently, searching his pockets and pulling out the same notebook and pencil he had given Sam during his last visit. Sam looked at him warily, then shakily reached out and took the notebook from Dean. That gave Dean the chance to see that Sam’s lips weren’t the only things Sam had clearly been nibbling at, as the skin around his nails was bloody and dry. It made Dean’s hands ache in sympathy, however Sam didn’t seem to feel any pain and just clutched at the notebook and pencil like they were a lifeline.

"Dean? Sam? What are you two talking about?" John asked, impatience clear in his voice. Sam glanced over at their father, and nibbled on his lips once more, making them bleed a little as he quickly scratched out an answer. Dean noticed that Sam’s handwriting was no longer as neat as it had once been and was now shaky and almost illegible.

 _Lo left me. Others took his place. They’re not as nice or accepting as Lo was. They hate that I ignore them and that doesn’t go down well with them. With Lo gone, I have no barrier between me and them. And then the nightmares came. I see things that might happen. Things that have happened. Things that I don’t ever want to happen. I don’t sleep much anymore._

After reading the note once his dad had handed it to him, Dean felt like he could physically feel his heart crumble over reading about his little brother’s pain and misery. He glanced at their father and then turned back to Sam, and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, wincing mentally when it made Sam jump and stare at him in fear. It was only the fact that Sam relaxed almost immediately upon only seeing Dean, that made Dean feel less awful.

Though not by much. He still had the burning need to find Lo and get Sam out of this place.

"Sam, have you told your doctor about this? Told him that you’re still seeing things?" John asked Sam, jerking Sam’s slightly glazed stare away from Dean to himself. Dean absently noted that Sam’s shoulders stiffened a little and his fingers once more began to tangle themselves in his sleeve.

 _I had no choice. They noticed. They upped my medication and increased whatever it is I have to take to make me sleep. I refuse to take it. They can’t force me. It traps me in them. I can’t take it. It hurts and I want to wake up. Why won’t they let me wake up?_

Whatever resolve Dean had been holding on to crumbled upon reading those heart-wrenching words and he quickly jumped out of his seat and tugged at Sam to stand. Once he’d gotten a slightly confused looking Sam to comply, Dean took his seat and pulled Sam to sit on his lap, wrapping him up in his arms and gently rocking him. Dean wasn’t too sure if he was trying to calm himself or Sam more, he just knew he needed to do this. Needed to hold Sam close to him.

"Sammy, whatever’s going on, we’re gonna get your through this, you’re not alone. Come on, Sammy. Just hold on a little longer for me, yeah? I’ll find him. You know he’s real. You know it’s not all in you head. Please, Sammy. Don’t let them brainwash you, baby brother," Dean whispered into Sam’s ear, hugging Sam as tightly as he dared to. He hated that Sam was so thin, Dean could feel his ribs even through the many layers Sam seemed to be wearing.

Sam just stared at him with his wide doe-eyes - making Dean finally realise just what that saying meant - and then sent him a small, shaky smile before he pressed his head under Dean’s chin and clung to Dean just as tightly. Dean looked over Sam’s head to see John staring at them in confusion, having not heard what Dean had whispered to Sam, and for that Dean was eternally thankful. Now he just had to find a way to find and summon a pagan god behind his overly suspicious father’s back and Sam would be fine. Dean was sure of it. No matter what happened, Dean would ensure that, in the end, Sam would be fine.

* * *

  
 _December 31st, 1998_

Sam was nearing the end of his tether. Admittedly, he’d been nearing the end of his tether for quite a while now, but he could feel himself slowly slipping away. The fuzzy haze that the drugs put him in was beginning to over-power him. He no longer found himself smiling whenever he got a phone call from Dean, and he wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to smile anymore. He didn’t find any joy in reading, he didn’t find any joy in anything actually. Just like he no longer knew how to smile, he also wasn’t too sure he was capable of ever having fun or finding joy in something.

He just no longer had the energy to do so. And no matter what Dean had whispered to him during their last visit, or what he had told him over the phone in their last phone call, Sam no longer knew the difference between real and imaginary. His mind was crumbling and he got the impression that even the spirits around him realised that.

Now they just stared at him with pity — and some with understanding — none of them actually asking him to tell people anything. None wishing for him to speak to them. And the reapers would send him worried looks as he lay in bed, wasting away. They would whisper for him to hold on, that help was coming, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to believe them. He wasn’t entirely certain that they were actually real anymore.

Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, like Chaudhery claimed. He couldn’t allow his mind to give himself false hope when he had no way of ever knowing the truth behind the whispers. He was never getting out, he accepted that now.

With that acceptance however, came a reluctance to carry on. He no longer felt such simple things as need, want or even hunger. Things were so bad in that respect, in fact, that just a few days before, Sam had been put onto a drip. They’d realised that they would have to find a way to feed Sam, seeing as he no longer fed himself.

So Sam spent his days curled up in the corner of his bed, pressed tightly against the wall and staring. He stared at his IV drip, watching the droplets of saline that kept him alive. He stared at the open doorway to his room, watching the people pass by and never entirely certain if he was the only one seeing them or if they were actually there. And he stared out the window, watching the few patients in the hospital that got to go outside for a few hours each day and play in the snow.

And never once did he realise it had been over two months since he’d last seen his father and brother, nor did he even realise that he had been put on a drip on Christmas Day. Sam no longer cared anymore. He didn’t know how to feel anything other than apathy. His medication smothered anything else he may have felt.

So it was a vague sense of what Sam might have called surprise, that he felt his gaze dragged away from his daily dose of staring at his drip and to the corner of his windowsill. Where a small winged woman was sitting, dressed in a elegant navy blue winter coat. Sam blinked at her slowly a couple of times, before he felt a sleepy smile stretch his lips, reopening small cuts in his chapped, dry lips.

"Sam-Ki! You would not believe how hard it has been to find you! We all blink for a mere second and you disappear! Sam-Ki, just what have the humans done to you! Master Lo-Ki won’t be impressed!" The faerie, Taney, told him in her barely audible voice. Sam didn’t answer, wasn’t sure if he _could_ answer, but he nodded slowly and shakily reached out his hand to Taney. He needed to touch, needed to know if it was real, or if it really was all in his head. Not that he was too sure what he would do if it turned out she wasn’t.

Or if it turned out she was.

Sam kinda figured he’d probably carry on doing nothing either way. He wasn’t sure he cared anymore.

Still, he was proved wrong when, as soon as he felt Taney flutter over and land gently on his palm, and ultimately proved him that he had been right all along, that none of it was imaginary - except possibly the disturbing pink bunnies sitting on the end of his bed a few months before - and that he would maybe, possibly, _hopefully_ be free one day soon.

"Oh, Sam-Ki. What have they done to you? Don’t give up your faith just yet, Little Master! Master Lo-Ki will soon be here. He’ll soon get you out! You’ll see! Don’t lose your faith in your destined! You have no idea how many are searching for you and searching for a way to get you out," Taney told him, flitting from his palm and up to hover in front of his face. Sam blinked a couple of time to get his eyes back to focus, then nodded his head when Taney’s words began to register.

The tiny being moved forward quickly and Sam felt her press a light kiss to his forehead, making Sam feel a muffled vestige of shock as he hadn’t realised he had meant that much to the young faerie. She then flew backwards away from him and back to the window. Sam watched her and somehow made small distressed noise upon realising she would leave him. Taney turned back to face him, a sad look on her face which made Sam’s heart twinge with loss.

"Don’t be too upset, Sam-Ki. You have many beings that respect you, and more so that respect your destined! It may take us a while, but you’ll be out of here one day! Just find faith, Sam-Ki. I know you can do it! Start by eating, Little Master. If not for yourself, then for me, Master Lo-Ki and your brother." At the mention of Dean, Sam shifted and looked at her, tilting his head in question.

"No, he hasn’t found a way to contact Master Lo-Ki, but he’s found a way to summon a reaper. He knows you have some sort of connection to them, and the reapers know he only wants to help you, so they will appease him. Master Lo-Ki also knows of Dean’s quest. He’s feeling very grateful towards your brother. It was word of his searching that clued the Master into where you are." Sam made a small questioning noise in the back of his throat, trying to somehow find a way to tell Taney what it was he wanted to know, only without knowing how.

Luck, however — or magic — was on his side, and Taney seemed to know what he was trying to ask, "we’re not too sure what it is about this place, but something is keeping us out. It has taken me and the rest of my patch almost six weeks to finally get me inside so I can give you word that we’ve found you! That’s why I have to leave soon, Sam-Ki! It’s draining us. But now you know we’ve found you. Now you know we’re working together to get you out. I’ve got to leave now, but one last thing, Sam-Ki! If anything happens, or if you need us, send word with Thomas. He knows how to get word to us. He’s agreed to pass on any messages should you need him too, but don’t abuse it. You know how important it is to not needlessly leave yourself in debt to Death. Don’t do it unless you have no other choice, Sam-Ki. Promise me!"

Sam stared at Taney with wide eyes, he knew what she was talking about. He knew you never wanted to truly be in debt to Death or one of his reapers. It never truly ended well, no matter how much of a good standing you had with them — and Sam really wasn’t too sure how good his standing currently was — so you just didn’t ask them for favours. It just wasn’t a wise thing to do. Therefore, Sam had no problem with agreeing to Taney’s demand. Nodding his head in agreement almost frantically.

Taney sent him a bright smile and flew back to him so she could playfully tug on a strand on hair hanging in front of his eyes, then ran her hand down the side of his face lovingly, before she once again flew back to the window. This time however, she didn’t stop and flew straight through the sealed shut window.

Sam stared at the window for a few more minutes, before he settled back into his corner of his bed and wrapped his arms around his legs once more. Had anyone looked in the room, they would have never guessed Sam had had a visitor, or even moved. But had they looked close enough, they would have noticed that Sam had a small smile on his face and was sleeping naturally for the first time in months.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

  
_March 3rd, 1999_

Sam looked up from the book he was looking at, though not actually taking any of the information in, when he heard someone walk into his room. He frowned when Amanda smiled cheerfully at him, not too sure what it was that could have made her so cheerful. Really, Sam couldn’t think of a damned thing.

Sure he’d taken to what Taney had told him, and he got that she had warned him that it would take time, but three months was beginning to push him to his limits. Especially as he hadn’t heard from anyone since, other than the odd reaper. The spirits however, seemed to have noticed that he was slowly coming back into himself — well he was eating at least — and thus they had started up their tormenting and verbal abuse. Something Sam had really missed, really.

Three months though. He was going insane - again. And he still had no idea why Amanda was grinning at him like she expected him to ask her what she was there for. She should really know better by now. Sam hadn’t spoken for over a year, you’d think she’d realise that. In the end, Sam just sighed and cocked his head to the side in question.

Amanda seemingly got the hint, as her smile just grew and she pulled an envelope from behind her back. Sam just stared at her and then the envelope warily.

"This arrived for you this morning! I’m assuming it’s from Dean, though the return address isn’t the one he normally uses. Did he and your father move again?" She asked him, and Sam just shrugged. Chances were that they had, but not in the way Amanda assumed. For one, they didn’t actually have a permanent address and Sam honestly had no idea who’s address Dean had been using for the return address. Sam hadn’t actually bothered to look on the few parcels Dean had sent him.

Sam just looked at Amanda, wondering if she was actually going to hand the damned envelope over, or if she was just going to dangle it in front of Sam’s face like a carrot in front of a donkey. Apparently, with the lowering of his meds, Sam’s thoughts were becoming a little more random once more. If he hadn’t been afraid of the side affects, Sam would have just stopped taking them altogether and just pretended.

He was pulled from his musings, having gotten bored of her random gushing over a letter, when Amanda placed the letter on his bed and gave his hair a fond ruffle, before leaving the room. Sam just stared after her for a few moments, wondering if she had possibly been spending too long around mental people and possibly needed to take a holiday.

However, once he’d shook himself from his slight daze, he glanced at the envelope once more, frowning when he noticed it was bright yellow. Certainly not something Dean would ever consider buying. Picking it up, Sam weighed it in his hands, nibbling his lip and wondering who it could be from. He took a quick glance at the return address and quickly scrabbled to open it upon seeing the sender’s name: Mr L. Quay.

Strangely, the first thing Sam did was sniff the paper once he yanked it out of the envelope. He felt a wash of calm flow over him upon smelling the familiar scent of Lo. Once Sam felt he’d been weird for long enough, he pulled the letter back and began to read it, warmth settling in his stomach at the thought of see Lo once more.

 _Sammy!  
You have no idea how much stress I’ve been going through, just trying to find you! Almost two years, Sammy! Taney told me what you seemed to have gone through whilst you were there and I’m just so angry with myself for leaving you! I should have seen this coming! Should have known something bad was going to happen. I’m so sorry, Sammy. So, so sorry! _

Now, I’m sending you this to both reassure you that I’m coming to get you out once I can work out how, and also to let you know that it shouldn’t take too long now. I’m hoping it will be before your birthday but I can’t make any promises.

I truly am so sorry for what happened to you as soon as I left you alone for a minute, but never forget that you’re mine, Sammy. I’ll always look after what I see as mine, and you are my most treasured possession.

Wait for me and don’t let them hurt you anymore than they already have. Taney told me you didn’t speak to her, and well that makes me worried. I’m worried as well about some of the things the reapers have told me. Just don’t give up yet, Sammy. Don’t lose hope.

You’re mine as I am yours, I’ll come and get you out, I promise.

Love,  
Lo

P.S - Given the place you are in and the security it seems to have, there’s a glamour charm on this. What you read and what they read aren’t the same. If they happen to ask you about your father’s health issues, just nod and smile.

P.P.S - I’ve heard about Dean’s struggles to summon me. If you speak to him before I get you, tell him to not bother. Really, summonings are kinda itchy. I’d appreciate it if he just didn’t. I do respect him for doing this for you though. He told you about the meeting he had with the reaper? You should ask him about that. Apparently the reaper hadn’t heard someone scream quite so high before.

Sam blinked at the last little note and then silently chuckled to himself. He really would have to remember to ask Dean about it the next time his brother visited him. If he ever did. Sam sometimes wondered if his brother and dad had finally decided to wipe their hands of him. He hadn’t seen them since their last visit in October. And after that it had only been one phone call which was fairly one-sided given Sam no longer spoke.

Sam wondered if they’d just forgotten him. He wouldn’t have blamed them if they had. And at least he now knew he still had Lo and that he hadn’t imagined the man. With a smile, Sam breathed in the scent of Lo from the letter once more, and lay down on his bed, anticipation of finally being free bubbling inside of him.

* * *

  
 _May 2nd, 1999_

Sam grumbled when he felt someone nudging him to wake up. He batted at the annoying presence, then cracked open an eye to glare at them, only to sit up in shock. He rubbed his hands over his face and then blinked up at the man standing over his bed with a soft smile on his face.

"Happy birthday, Sammy," Lo whispered. That broke the spell Sam seemed to be in and he launched himself out of his bed and into Lo’s arms, feeling Lo chuckle as he wrapped his own arms around Sam. "Missed you, Kid."

Sam snuffled and pressed his face into Lo’s neck, breathing in the man’s scent and just taking comfort in his presence, whilst Lo gently rubbed Sam’s back.

"Sammy, we’re gotta get moving before someone notices that I’m here. Come on, Sammy. I know you’re still drowsy, but I promise to let you sleep as soon as I’ve got you back to my place. Okay?" Lo asked him softly, running a hand soothingly through Sam’s hair and making Sam press a little into the hand. Sam in answer to the question however, just whimpered quietly and pressed even closer to Lo.

He didn’t want to sleep. He was scared that if he slept, when he woke up again, Lo would be gone and he’d realise all of this was a dream. He never wanted to let go and never wanted to wake up if that was the case.

"I promise you, Sammy, that I’m real. We really need to go, but when we’ve gotten back to my place and you’ve had some sleep, I’ll prove to you just how real I am. We’ll work on getting you to speak again as well, yeah?" Sam nodded against Lo’s neck and finally convinced himself to step back, though he refused to let go of Lo’s shirt. He stared at Lo and little before smiling and running a hand through Lo’s hair and then tugging gently on the ends. "Yeah yeah, it’s grown. Same can be said about you, Sammy. Now, you ready to go? Anything you want to take with you?"

Sam nibbled on his lip and then gave a short nod before stepping towards the desk in the room. He glanced at Lo, and tightened his hold on his shirt as a hint that he didn’t want to let go. A hint that Lo apparently picked up on and followed closely behind Sam to the desk. Sam quickly gathered the few books and the jacket Dean gave him all that time ago, he then grabbed a scrap piece of paper on the desk and scribbled a note, and then pressed back into Lo.

"Ready?" Lo asked him, placing a calming, warm hand on Sam’s waist. Sam turned his head to look at Lo before he nodded his head quickly, and tightened his hold on his possessions. He gave a small gasp of shock when Lo pressed a kiss to his neck and then clicked his fingers seconds later. With a blink, Sam felt himself being swept away from the room he had been living in for the past eighteen months. In seconds, Sam felt a weight drop from his shoulders and freedom become something more than a passing fancy.

 _I told you he was real. Loki finally came for me. Don’t worry, I’m safe._

* * *

  
 _May 3rd, 1999_

Dean sat up quickly, shifting the book he was reading to the side so his dad couldn’t read the title — not that he was going to be summoning a reaper again, but he still had hope he’d find someone else that would be able to help him and he didn’t think his dad would appreciate that kind of reading material — and looked over with a frown when John ended the phone call hastily, whilst grabbing his bags.

"Dad?"

"Pack up, Dean. We’ve got to leave."

"Er… the hunt?"

"I’ll call Bobby on the way to get someone else to cover it. Somethings happened to Sam, Dean. We need to get there as soon as possible," John told him, and Dean started moving, grabbing books and clothing as soon as he heard his brothers name.

"What’s happened? Did they tell you? Is he alright?" Dean asked even as he frantically threw their belongings into whatever bag was nearby, not even caring to check that he wasn’t damaging anything, or that he was grabbing the right clothes.

"They don’t know… Dean…" John sighed and Dean stopped his hurried packing to turn and look at the man. His dad was sitting on the end of his bed, head in his hands as he stared at the floor. "What have I done, Dean?"

"What… what do you mean, Dad? What’s happened to Sammy? Dad… you’re scaring me. Tell me he’s okay!"

"He’s disappeared, Dean. And it’s my fault! I should have just let him have his friends that only he could see. I should have just let him grow out of it in his own time." Dean gaped at his father, and then shook his head and furiously began to finish the packing.

"Yeah, Dad, or you could have listened to what Sammy told you! Maybe Lo wasn’t imaginary, maybe he was invisible! Did you ever think that? I mean, fuck, Dad! We hunt shit like this every day, but you think your son’s immune to it? You just think he’s insane?!" Dean sighed, and glared at John, before throwing the bag onto his shoulder and grabbing another one, then walking to the door. "Come on, we’ve got to get to the hospital and see if there are any hints on where Sammy’s gone."

With that, Dean turned his back on his father and walked out of the motel room. He ignored the niggling voice in the back of his mind that told him _he_ hadn’t believed Sam at first either. And that their father had only done what he felt was right, but Dean brutally pushed it away and just threw his bags into the back of his car, before getting in himself. He only had to wait for a few more minutes before John also walked out of the motel room. After having returned the key, John climbed into his own truck and the two Winchesters drove out of the motel parking lot and towards where they hoped they’d find Sam.

* * *

Dean and John followed the anxious nurse down the corridors, towards the room Sam had been staying in. Upon reaching it, she stepped to the side and motioned for them to enter.

"We only found a note. His books and a jacket were missing, but everything else is still here. We have no idea how he got out! The doors are locked at night to prevent any nighttime wanderings, and on top of that, we have cameras on every floor now!" The nurse told them, ringing her hands anxiously as John glared at her silently. Dean just huffed loudly, and then shoved past his dad into the room. As soon as he entered, he noticed that it was the books Dean had given Sam, that Sam had taken. And was probably his jacket as well.

Smiling to himself softly, Dean shook his head and walked over to the desk, where the note had been left upon finding the room empty. Dean picked up the note just as he absently heard his dad asking about police involvement. Snorting and shaking his head, Dean just knew if Sammy didn’t want to be found, then no one would find him. Reading the note, Dean actually felt some of his fear for Sammy fade.

Spinning on his heel, Dean walked back to where his dad and the nurse were still talking and discussing how necessary it was to involve the police. Dean interrupted them by slapping the note into John’s chest, glaring at him.

"Read it. Maybe then you’ll realise listening to your sons is a good idea. Me and Sammy both told you, but you didn’t listen to us. Didn’t listen to Sammy. Read the damn note and maybe learn to have a bit of faith in your youngest son," Dean snapped at him. He then turned sharply and began to walk back down the corridor.

"Dean! Dean, where are you going? Dean, answer me!" John shouted after him, making Dean pause and look over his shoulder to see John glaring at him, Sam’s note held tightly in his hand.

"I’m going to find my brother and his friend. I believed in him, Dad! This would never have happened if you had as well!" Dean called over his shoulder as he carried on his way to the elevators. He didn’t bother looking behind him to see what his father though about his decision, just got into the elevator as soon as the doors opened and hit the button to take him to the main floor. He had no idea how he was going to find Sam, but at least he had a better lead than his dad and anyone else.

Either way, Dean was determined that he was going to find Sam if only so he could make sure he’s safe and finally happy. All Dean wants is for Sam to be happy.

* * *

  
 _May 18th, 1999_

"Lo," Sam whispered, not able to actually speak over a hushed whispered without hurting his throat, and even then he could only speak a couple of words before he had to stop. Lo was adamant in getting Sam to talk once more, however, and seemed to be alert to any sound Sam made, as he looked over as soon as Sam spoke.

"Yeah? You alright, Sammy?" Lo asked him, moving from where he’d been making something no doubt sickly sweet and gooey in the kitchen, to stand right next to Sam. Sam nodded his head and handed Lo a note he’d wrote, his throat already beginning to hurt him. Sam absently rubbed his neck, and smiled when Lo followed the movement and pressed a light kiss there. He was almost certain the scratchy pain faded a little as soon as Lo did that.

 _What happens now?_ Lo curled a hand around Sam’s waist and led Sam into the kitchen, he’d made it his mission to 'fatten Sam up' since they’d arrived at the apartment Lo called his own, and Sam wasn’t really going complain given what Lo was fattening him up with.

"Right now, you’re going to sit there and eat my marvellous magical mystical pudding…" Sam just stared at him silently with a raised eyebrow before Lo’s shoulders slumped, "It’s chocolate bread and butter pudding. You’ll love it. But right now, that’s what you’re going to be doing. Then and only then, will we decide what to do next. Not that I think we need to. We’re fine here! I can make it so you graduate, then you can just do whatever you please and I’ll follow along behind like I always have!"

Sam just carried on staring at Lo with an unimpressed look on his face, and then rolled his eyes and tucked into the food Lo placed in front of him. He shocked them both by making a small happy moan as soon as he had the first spoonful, and Lo gifted him with a wide smile and a wink, before he walked into the to main room, hand running through Sam’s hair as he passed him.

"So, seeing as you’re not happy with my plan of just staying here, and I really don’t understand why not. I figured you could tell me your plan," Lo told him, then pinned Sam with a narrow stare when Sam reached for the notebook Lo had brought in with him. "Ah, ah! I said you finish that first, _then_ we’ll discuss it! Eat up!"

Sam huffed and ate another mouthful, before he reached out and snatched the notebook from Lo’s hands, getting an indignant and startled noise from Lo, though he let him have it.

 _You know you’re going to have to feed me something with vegetables in one day, right?_

"Chocolate could be seen as a vegetable," Lo told him breezily, only for Sam to glare at him. "Oh fine, I’ll make you something boring and sugar free tomorrow. You finished?"

Sam rolled his eyes and ran his finger around the edge of the bowl before popping it in his mouth and ignoring the strangled noise Lo made at the action. He nudged the bowl aside and began to scribble on his notebook once he felt his finger was sufficiently clean of gooey chocolate and custard mix.

 _I was wondering if we could somehow tell Dean where I was. And if I could have some carrots. I really miss carrots._

"You think of Dean and carrots at the same time? Sammy, I swear, I’m trying not to make my thoughts dirty, but you’re not helping m—ow!" Lo exclaimed as Sam threw his spoon at Lo’s head. Sam just glared at him and Lo huffed, pouting as he considered Sam’s request. "Fine, I’ll get you some carrots tomorro—ow!ow! And why do you wanna tell Dean?"

Sam let go of Lo’s ear that he was twisting, and scribbled his answer on the notebook, shoving it back for Lo to read.

 _He believed me, Lo. He believed in you too. Don’t try to deny that you don’t know this. Taney told me that you all knew he was searching for me! He deserves to know that I’m alright at the very least!_

Lo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, fine. I’ll admit, Dean grew on me a little when I heard that, but I still don’t like him for hiding out candy! And before you say it, I don’t care that it was ten years ago! Candy is a serious matter! You don’t mess with candy!"

 _We shaved his head and filled his bed with sand, I think he got the message._

"Ooh, that was good payback. Fine, so we tell Dean. Do you want him to know where you are, or just that you’re safe?"

 _Can we tell him where I am? I miss him._ Sam stared at Lo with wide eyes, nibbling on his bottom lip and making Lo groan and drop his head down onto the table.

"Stop looking at me like that! Like I was going to say no anyway! Just know, you’re so paying me back for this!" Lo told him, and Sam grinned happily at him and nodded his head. Lo smirked and tugged Sam nearer to him, kissing him lightly on the lips then leaning back. "I’ll leave Dean a note. Sometime. Please say no time soon. I just know the guy will blame me for the pink hubcaps. I wanna delay my inevitable pain a little longer."

Sam snickered silently, but nodded his head all the same. He leant against Lo’s chest and sighed happily when Lo wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to Sam’s head. "Love you, Lo," Sam whispered croakily. Lo tightened his grip around him slightly before he nuzzled his nose into Sam’s hair.

"Love you too, Sammy. Love you too."

* * *

  
 _June 11th, 1999_

Dean sighed as he stared at the map in front of him. He’d be honest with himself and admit that he had no idea what he was actually looking for, but he wouldn’t tell anyone else this. And he had no idea how his dad was doing as he’d made sure to hide his trails from his dad since he’d left the hospital. He was going to find Sam, and then he was going to do whatever Sam wanted him to do with regards to their father.

First he just had to find Sammy.

"So, I hear you’ve been looking for me for a while now?" Dean jumped and gave a startled yelp, spinning around on his chair to face whoever had spoken, and gaping when he saw a man that didn’t look much older than himself, though much shorter, with mischievous golden brown eyes staring at him.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, jumping up from his chair and grabbing for his nearest gun. The man in front of him however, didn’t seem to care at all, and actually moved to sit on the bed.

"I’m hurt that you don’t remember me, Dean! I mean, I lived with you for ten years." Dean frowned, and then gaped as it hit him just who was sitting in his room.

"Lo! Fuck me! Sammy was actually telling the truth! I mean, I believed him, I really did. But believing something and being proven it’s right is like… completely different! Sammy’s with you, right? Please tell me he’s with you! Tell me he’s alright! Please!" Dean begged, not caring what he was doing, just needing to know that Sam was okay. Clearly his reaction had shocked Lo, who just stared at him with wide eyes for a second, before he sighed.

"Sam’s… He’s with me. As for if he’s okay, well… he’s getting there," Lo told him with a sigh. Dean frowned and moved to sit down on his chair.

"So… Not that I’m not grateful, because I am, I really am, but why are you here? I doubt you’d have come here of your own choice, so Sammy must have been the one to tell you to come to me. Right?"

"Yeah, you’re right on that one. He wanted you to know that he’s alright and that he misses you for some unknown reason only he gets," Lo added with a mutter. Dean smirked at that before he sighed and rested his head in his hands.

"Does that mean he wants to see me?"

"Yeah, that’s what it means. He’s waiting for me to give him the say so, then he’ll come in. He’s outside. I needed to make sure he’d be safe, you know how it is." Dean did, and he begrudgingly nodded at that, even if the man was keeping Sam safe from _him_. He didn’t say anything however, because as soon as he nodded, Lo grinned at him and clicked his fingers. The door to his motel room then opened and Dean soon found himself with an armful of little brother.

"Sammy! Man, Sammy, I missed you! I’m so sorry me and Dad didn’t visit you since last October! We suck, Sammy! And I’m so sorry! Sorry, Sammy!" Dean muttered, clinging to Sam just as tightly as Sam was clinging to him.

"So! Who wants to hear my most awesome and amazing plan to keep Sammy here from the big bad John Winchester? And, you know, the psychs that want to lock him up?" Lo added with a sneer at the thought. Dean just rolled his eyes, but Sam pulled out of Dean’s embrace and looked at Lo with a tilted head.

"Sure, go ahead, tell us how we’re going to keep Sammy safe," Dean said, letting Sam shift away from him and move back to Lo’s side. Dean stomped down on the small flash of jealousy he felt and instead just listened to what Lo had to say.

"Actually, it’s less of a plan and more of a sentence."

"Pardon?"

"Well, basically? You and Sam just follow me around, or we find a place we all wanna stay. But I doubt any of us would be happy with that, given how we all have an apparent fear of staying in one place for too long," Lo explained, getting up from the bed and stretching, then ruffling Sam’s hair.

"That’s the plan? Just do as we’ve been doing all our life?" Dean asked him, staring from Lo to Sam, who just shrugged with a grin on his face. Clearly Sam was more used to Lo than Dean was.

"Sure, what’s wrong with that? Well, we’ve also got to go see Taney as well. She insists on seeing that I’ve fed Sam something healthy for once. Like the kid can’t live off sugar. Who can’t? Pie is a very healthy alternative!"

"I’ve gotta agree with you there…" Dean admitted begrudgingly, before he frowned and looked at Sam. "Who’s Taney?"

"Hmm? Oh, she’s this damned faerie that became attached to Sammy here a while back. Hasn’t left his side since. Really, quite annoying. Though having a whole bunch of faeries backing you is certainly something no one should turn down," Lo added with a mutter and Dean stared at him then turned to gape at Sam.

"You made friends with a faerie?"

"Yes yes, and a Norse god. You’re brother’s awesome. Come on, let’s head off! Sammy said you’d refuse to leave your precious car behind so we’ll be going in that," Lo told them, then wandered over to the small kitchenette area of the motel room Dean was staying in. Apparently the god had realised Dean might want to talk to Sam alone. Or as alone as Lo was willing to leave them. Which wasn’t at all.

"So this is what we're doing then? We hide from Dad and follow him?" Dean asked Sam, pulling him aside once Lo had finished setting out his plan on what they should do about John.

Sam just stared at Dean, then glanced back over his shoulder at Lo who was actually minding his own business for once. Though he was keeping a close eye on Sam, and Sam knew he was completely safe from most things now. He looked back at Dean and just nodded his head silently.

Sighing, Dean ruffled Sam's hair then paused and tugged Sam into a huge hug, nuzzling his nose into Sam's hair. "If it's gonna make you happy, then we'll do that then."

"Sam? Dean?" Sam pulled back from Dean and looked over at Lo in question. "Come on, if we have to start teaching Dean to see everything you do, we're gonna have to go to Taney."

Sam turned back to Dean and pulled out of his embrace fully, instead gently tugging on Dean's wrist for him to follow.

"Think Sam's ever gonna talk to me?" Dean asked Lo once they'd caught up with him. He glanced down when he felt Sam's grip tighten a little, though Sam remained staring straight ahead and didn't acknowledge Dean at all. Beside him, Loki sighed and shrugged.

"No clue. None of us actually know what happened to him. He talks to me, but he doesn't actually tell me everything that happened. I can guess some things though. One day, no idea when, but one day, I'm sure he'll talk to you again. You've just gotta give him time," Loki told him quietly, so softly that Dean was pretty certain Sam couldn't hear him. He glanced back over at his little brother anyway, just to see if he could see any signs that he had.

"I get what my dad did, you know? I mean, I didn't stop him, didn't do anything to help Sammy, but sometimes, sometimes I can't help but hate him. When I see Sam like this, that hate is just too strong for me to accept Dad did what he thought was right. I kinda hate myself at these times, too."

"Don't." Dean jerked in shock when he heard Sam's whisper and had to look at Loki to make sure he hadn't just heard things, given Sam's facial expression gave nothing away. The slightly shocked look on Loki's face reassured Dean though.

"He's right, you helped Sam. Made a plan to get him out, tried to find ways to find me, you might not have succeeded in any of that, but you helped." Dean sighed and shrugged his shoulders. He could accept what Loki was saying, but he didn't think he'd ever truly forgive himself.

"So, we're going to see faeries? Like, real fairies? Tinkerbell faeries?" Dean asked instead, deciding to change the subject. He couldn't help the slight spark of childish glee that shone in his voice and made Sam look at him with a small smile.

"Yeah, Deano, real faeries."

"If I say I don't believe, do I have to clap?"

"If you say you don't believe, they might _give_ you the clap. I say you risk it and find out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End Notes** : This came to me, amusingly enough, when I was watching Drop Dead Fred. Only I thought what would happen if it was Sam in that position and if the imaginary friend wasn't quite as imaginary as everyone believed. I came up with this.
> 
> Now, I dunno how you felt about John's actions in this, but I never wrote this to make John out to be the bad guy. I tried to show that John was just trapped in a situation he had no idea to deal with. So yeah, John wasn't the bad guy in this, he was just a father who wanted to help his son. He just went the wrong way about it.
> 
> So, what did you think? Any good? I kinda felt sorry for Sam in this, bless him. Lol. And no, I have no plans for a sequel or anything else like that, so ask all you like, I ain't giving you one! *snicker*


End file.
